Chapter Twenty-five: Reunions of Papered Proportions

 

Unsurprisingly, Loudon fell through first. Olivia, Will, Neph, Asafa, Mike, Delia, and the others quickly followed. Patrick fell through last and the pages glowed then dimmed.

There was a mad scramble, then Olivia, Neph, and I were tumbling to the floor, arms and legs bent in awkward, wonderful angles as we dragged each other closer.

“What a rush,” Will said, cheeks red and eyes bright as he swayed, trying to take it all in. “Like my brain was squeezed through a tube of memories and then blended in time and space. I feel absolutely terrible,” he said cheerfully.

Then he passed out. Two thumps echoed beside him.

Olivia and Neph seemed to be pushing back against fainting on pure determination. I held tighter and felt moisture slipping from my eyes.

“Did you really think we weren't going to come?” Olivia whispered into my hair.

“I don't want you to get hurt, too.”

“I know,” she said softly, pulling away to look into my eyes. “And things are going to get worse. But there's a time for worry and there's a time for action, and we are choosing which we follow.”

A hand descended on my shoulder. I squeezed my eyes together then looked up at Mike. For a moment, everything was still. Like the world had frozen, and only the unending movement of dust in the wind was visible. A space opened in my chest, like someone had shoved a balloon in there and kept blowing, blowing, blowing, until they hit my ribs, pushing everything outward until it felt I might explode with the nothingness that was blooming inside.

“Mike.”

“We are going to find the cure,” he said, expression showing pain, immediate and fresh. “We are going to find the caster. We are going to stop this madness. And we are going to get rid of Stavros.”

Patrick stepped behind him, eyes darkly glittering.

“Yes.” My eyes filled with liquid. “Yes.”

~*~

After reviving everyone and catching up on many, many fierce hugs, I introduced them to the library.

The Bandits took to the library's denizens exactly as I figured they would—with enthusiasm.

Guard Rock had become the official in charge of maintaining order, and had stabbed more than one book—and more than one mage—trying to sneak information without proper exchange. Things settled into order quickly under his watch.

At the one-hour mark, Asafa, Delia, Lifen, and Kita left to check in at Excelsine, and see what had occurred in their five-minute absence. After a quick discussion, it had been decided to split shifts between abilities and roommates, trying to give each group a member of each ability and pair, just in case something went wrong on either end.

There were still things to be done in the real world in real time, too. At Excelsine, they had been working hard to gather and energize all the resources that we had been collecting—the eyes and ears of the young, intellectual community. And they had started sending branches out to the other universities around the Second Layer—something that Axer had helped facilitate with the combat connections he had forged during the competition.

Contacting and putting those connections into play was a game of delicate balance and timing that we hoped would pay off on the world stage.

Inside, we were plotting a different plan.

“Once she's caught in the fly trap, she won't be able to get out. Stavros will specifically look for and remove triggers that act like the Table One mind job Verisetti laid,” Adrabi said. “Ren's the one who has to be with him to destroy him, but she's useless once she's in his lair. Circular problem.”

“He won’t bring Ren to him whole,” Will said, rubbing his finger in agitation along the table. How to Plan Your Heist hopped over each finger swipe like it was an invisible jump rope. “He can’t afford it.”

“Unless he thinks he’s won,” I murmured. Death Plans peeked hopefully over the side.

“He gets you, he has,” Mike said baldly.

I looked at Axer, then Constantine.

“I don't like the people we might have to trust in this,” Constantine said, throwing his string onto the table.

“Ditto,” Olivia said tightly.

I looked at Olivia and Constantine in sympathy. “I know.”

After a few rounds between Excelsine and the library, the connection was deemed stable. The combat mages came through for a few hours—holding intense conversations with Axer in the corner. The tension between Constantine and the combat mages was not zero.

Lox and Constantine were never going to be friends—they were too alike and different in all the wrong ways. Camille looked like Constantine could drop dead at any moment, and she wouldn't shed a tear. Greene and Constantine, on the other hand, had a tense conversation that seemed to end in mutual accord.

And Ramirez...well, Ramirez watched Constantine with the stare of someone who was plotting multiple endpoints—ways to make his best friend happy and bring Constantine into the fold, and ways to ensure that Constantine's body would never be found.

The Bandits and combat mages started rotating on a per-project basis. It was an elegant solution to visiting and securing the premises at Excelsine, though due to the time scale on the other side, they had to clump around the library's Fourth Floor, and clumping together was always a danger with the Junior Department still active.

“Stavros is going to know,” I said. “About Valeris. That we could find something like this. He'll be able to put the clues together at the first report to reach his ears.”

A ball appeared in Axer's hand. “That's where the art of the con comes in. That's why we make him think we are after one thing”—His hand flipped, and the ball was gone—“when really we are pulling another con.”

Patrick's eyes glittered. “Pull the double bluff. The triple. There's always a way to make someone think you are on their side when you are not.”

Constantine was watching Patrick sharply. Patrick smirked, a veil of mischief gathering back over eyes that continued to cast dark shadows.

Surrounded by dangerous books, dangerous mages, and the dangerous knowledge that we could all put together, we were ready to enact a risky plan.

“It's not going to be easy even in Plan A,” Olivia said grimly, when we all gathered together for an hour inside to discuss the full parameters. “Evidence supports your pentagram theory.” She turned a book so that I could see the page she was tapping. “Though without an Origin Mage's sight, it has always just been one theory in an endless sea of them about Stavros. In a pentagram hide, you must uncover each of the external points to find what is hidden in the middle—and where it is hidden. And in this case, who.”

“Stavros.”

Asafa tapped the page. “The intersections are the doorways to the center. Which means there are corridors between the seal endpoints and the doors.” His fingers slid along the paths. “These are the routes that have to be taken, if part of the pentagram still stands.”

“We finish Verisetti's work,” Mike said. “Destroy the points. Expose him.”

“Exposure will not be easy, even with all points destroyed. There will be a flipside, somewhere, even in the end,” Axer said. “Just like in the Basement—a replication of the interior seal.”

“But if we destroy the others and get him in the last one, he can be exposed. Maybe harmed.”

Axer nodded. “It's an easier plan to predict. But it's far harder to destroy something from the outside. Time is against an attack from without. A siege is not in our favor. As soon as we start destroying the pentagram, Stavros will know. He'll know when the first seal is attacked, no less the last destroyed. He'll have every precaution and shield he's been working on for thirty plus years in place.”

Axer tossed magic into the center. “No matter what, we’re going to have to split up. That’s the only way any of this works.”

“Absolutely not,” Olivia said, steel under her words.

“You know the end game, Price,” Constantine said wearily. “Alexi is right. And we're going to need people at the sites simultaneously anyway.”

“When did the two of you become friendly again?” she asked aggressively. I could feel in our bond that she had expected him to agree with her.

Constantine lifted a brow. “You expected me to be reasonable and consistent?”

She growled.

“We all have our specialties, Olivia, though usually no one cares about a specialty for hail,” Mike said, twirling a thread of wind around his finger, lips tight. “We need to cover all parts of this plan near simultaneously. Sacrifice is inevitable, but the end game can be ours if we commit. I know you are committed. I know you will play your part. The rest of us are committed, too, let us play ours,” he ended softly.

I looked away.

Olivia's lips pulled tight. “I don't like this plan.”

“I don't either,” I whispered. “But if we want to beat him, we have to do it before he knows we switched the game.”

“It’s a bad game.”

“The board was set before we were ever on it. We were never playing a good one, but we can make it ours.” I looked around the table and saw the determined faces staring back. Even Olivia's.

I looked at the magic displayed in the center of the table, with our circular plans swirling around it—with the sacrifices that we might have to make. So many parts with so much risk.

“Verrange is gone,” I said. “But Kaine could have put the Crelussa painting into play again already, elsewhere. It was likely Salietrex was a seal. Maybe Jauvine, too. Which means Stavros has a way to patch the seals or move them. But once you start loosening a pentagram hide, it is never quite as strong as the original. Like patching tape on a broken toy.” I looked at Olivia. “We have to hit simultaneously. But even if that plan fails, he’ll still want an Origin Mage to remake the entire construct completely. From scratch. Better this time. He'll want me.”

“I don't like this.” And it was interesting, here at the end, that Olivia, that Constantine, had been the two at different points in time—Constantine earlier, and Olivia still now—to be the ones to hold out so fiercely. “We almost lost you.”

“I know,” I said painfully. “But not this time. That's what we are doing—we are going to make certain every one of us is standing at the end.” I had to believe that. “Together.”

Grim resignation and a veil of determination descended, and she nodded sharply. “Yes.”

Asafa cleared his throat, the others exchanging short nods. “So, locating the remaining seals... Dagfinn? What do you have for us?”

Dagfinn didn’t hesitate. “Five sites. Two extremely likely candidates, the other three good options as second tier hits.”

“Pull them up,” Axer said.

Dagfinn enlarged the hologram.

It was interesting how the Bandits—a bunch of independent and rebellious troublemakers—had automatically deigned to listen whenever Axer spoke.

“Darpin Sloughs. Fels Hollow. Picquant Moors. Shayvale Castle. Spartine Prison.”

The oxygen in my lungs felt like it had been lit on fire. “Why the prison?”

Dagfinn blinked. “Why...not the prison?”

Someone elbowed him, and I heard “brother” harshly whispered.

“Oh. Ohhhhh, right. Well.” Dagfinn coughed. “Er, that’s one of the two… I mean—”

“It’s okay, Dagfinn,” I said gently. “Spartine Prison has a Kinsky?”

“It…has a Kinsky with the date and hit parameters you provided. Now, no one can see the symbols like you can, but Verisetti tried to hit the prison three separate times. The motive was attributed to prisoner liberation by the media each time, but—”

“But he was probably trying to destroy a seal.” I pulled my finger across the hologram, rotating it. I forced myself not to look at the prisoner section.

“Also, the location pinged as a hit on our earlier Basement list. A few people we were tracking went into the prison—Department folks—then disappeared, only to reappear elsewhere later.”

“There are ports inside the prison,” Axer said.

“Yes. But our flagged villains didn't go into those rooms.” He pulled up a subset of schematics. “Government specs are supposed to show all port entrances and exits, even restricted ones. It’s a violation of building codes, otherwise someone might add in magic somewhere, not knowing that there’s already a space, and next thing you know—” He made an explosion with his hands.

“You cross-referenced, and the unmarked porting room has a Kinsky,” Olivia said, getting back on topic. When Olivia decided she was in a plan, she was in.

“The unmarked porting room has a Kinsky,” Dagfinn confirmed.

Axer nodded, unsurprised.

“I know some people who can scout the sites.” Dagfinn looked a little furtive. “No names, but they hate the Dep—”

“Julian can help.” Axer sketched a communication rune and tossed it across the table. “He knows the security measures and can give a rough sketch of them. He is...taking a leave of absence from his duties, as well as being off island. He can help you gather information. He'd be pleased to do it.”

Will and Dagfinn exchanged uneasy glances, then looked at me. I shrugged. I didn't trust Julian Dare much either, but if he could aid us...

“Show me what you have on Darpin Sloughs,” Axer said.

Dagfinn brought that one up, and they started dissecting it as well.

I tuned out. I had little doubt we'd have the correct hit list by the end of the day. Axer could pull on all my knowledge, at this point, by just curling his magic with Constantine's and tapping into the right thought. I happily left him to it with full permission.

I tapped on Constantine's confidence games device instead. Patrick went suddenly silent next to me. I looked up to see him staring down at it.

Crime Families and Punishment immediately landed next to him. Disloyalty, Dishonor, and Death followed.

“You can't trust an O'Leary,” Patrick said, eyes on his family's device.

I nodded and tapped the con above Five Man Act on our list, scrolling through the parameters. “So, I've heard.”

His eyes glittered as he looked at me with a faint smile. “You heard me talking to my father last term.” He waved a distracted hand. “He has his plans. And his desires. The Department stole our generational ward stones some ten years past under cover of continued ‘evidence’ lockup. Motivation and revenge are easy lures for my family,” he said darkly.

“Along with family ties. Loyalty.”

Patrick's eyes went blank as he stared off into the distance. “We'll have to see, won't we?”

“We'll save your brother.”

“We'll have to see on that, too,” he murmured. I stroked our connection thread, which hadn't fully recovered, but was still there, still attached. The connections had to be upheld by both sides. All of Patrick's were dimmer than before, though, and it made me want to cry. Sacrifice. “Get to have my fun first, though, don't I?” His expression turned jovial like his continually flipping emotional switch had locked into place again.

“Only if you want,” I murmured. “I'm serious, we can—”

“Yes, Crown.” He sounded so tired suddenly, letting me see his strain. He gave me a smile. “I know. With you there is always a choice. It's a novelty. Don't be concerned. O'Learys always come out on top.”

He leaned back and shut his eyes.

“All Department prisoners go to Keating Glen first,” Dagfinn was saying, as I tuned back in to the other conversation. “It's procedure. They get wiped of tracking spells and anything else before being run through the system.”

“Then some stay there, while others go to a stage further down,” Saf said, running his fingers along the path.

“Where would they take one of us?” I asked.

“Depends on who they get.” Axer tapped one of the buildings in the hologram. “You or me, we'd get processed quickly. Fifteen minutes, maybe. Stripping spells and unbreakable null cuffs and tailored spells. Stavros will already have subroutines set to subdue our magic, and he'd want us quickly. Kaine is the only one who'd be allowed to transport us, though, so we'd have just that small bit of time before he arrived, if he wasn't already on the premises. Price and Constantine would get nearly the same treatment we would, though they'd be held until Stavros needed them. Maybe underestimated and allowed a bit of magic even. Bau and Tasky probably too. One of the others gets caught, they go to maybe stage two or three. It depends on how they'd rate their status and what surgeon they'd be sent to.”

“Most of you would probably stay in Keating Glen,” Greene said. “It's where they keep most of the prisoners.”

“If we incapacitate Keating Glen...”

“Then they'll have to use the holding cells of the next best alternative.”

“Spartine.”

Axer nodded. “Spartine.”

“And the protection levels?”

“Different levels of protections are used for different kinds of prisoners.”

“So, Patrick—”

“Would rank as high volatility. A trickster. They wouldn't trust him.”

“And Will?”

“Tasky would still get held in the highest security because of his ties to you. But would they expect trickiness from him? They'd be less likely to. A distinct advantage.” He tapped the page. “We need a high level of security, but a low level of deception risk.”

“The space where Stavros is?” Greene said. “It can't be large. And it can't be filled with workers. No one ever says, 'I work in the Department's secret torture lab' and though people claim to have seen Stavros personally as a point of pride, the truth is always unsubstantiated.”

“Politicians lie,” Constantine said languidly, twisting a stringed net.

“There are many secret torture labs,” Ramirez said. “He can visit any of them by hopping a ride.”

“Who would be allowed to travel where he is, though?” Greene asked. “Kaine, probably.”

“Cuffed, tortured victims?” Will contributed.

“Raphael was tortured by Helen Price. Extensively,” I offered. “They both have said so. Now, maybe the torture took place in the Basement alone, but Raphael was worked on by Stavros personally. Does your mother know where Stavros is?”

“She doesn’t need to know where he is, if she has a connection to him,” Olivia said briskly. “He can just open the door for her. That is, in fact, how I’m sure they do things. Stavros has to open his side.”

Uneasy silence met that statement.

“Price's mother,” Green allowed. “Mussolgranz. That irritating praetorian from campus.”

Darkness roiled through Constantine, Axer, and Olivia at the reminder of Tarei.

“Likely more of the empty vessels you saw in the Basement,” Camille said tightly. “Nothing to trust or not trust there.”

Axer nodded. “We get to him on our own, outside of all the spells, those are the people we have to fight.”

“Lovely,” Constantine said, stretching back. “One for each of us.”

“We all need to go over Crown's memories,” Greene said. “Sorry, Crown.”

They pulled the entire set from the Basement and put it in a viewing ball. It was too hard to experience again, so I chose to sketch and use the time for the dozen enhanced storage papers I needed to construct.

“Ugh. I need to vomit somewhere,” Lifen said, giving my shoulder a squeeze, when they were done.

“We already knew what had to be done after Crelussa,” Mike said tightly. “Four thousand attempted murders of kids. But this...millions...” Mike looked up, and there was no second-guessing in his gaze. “I will see this stopped no matter what. No matter what, Ren.”

I had to look away, close my eyes. That I would lose one of them in this was too probable.

“An Empath. A Bridge. A Hollow. Wow, listening to that was worse than the summary I already knew!” Loudon said.

“This is all just fantastic,” Delia said, stabbing a knitting needle into a glowing scarf, held in the chompers of a book titled Deadly Creations at her side. “Nothingness. Loss of self and others. I'd rather have death and dismemberment.”

Neph, who I'd thought would be the most upset—and indeed, her emotions were all quite clear on that front as she viewed the memories—was surprisingly the one straining for every horrifying detail.

“Affective Empathy. High intelligence. Hubris,” she said softly. “His model for humanity is already set. He assumes motivation according to the basest of emotions. And while that likely bears true in an overall sense, such views can lead to overestimation in the micro. Enton Stavros under and overestimates emotions. Anger, love, vengeance... He has manipulated each for six or seven decades. There are no surprises for a man like that.”

Axer flipped the sphere in his hand. “Give him what he thinks he'll see...”

She nodded, and looked up at him, resolute resignation in her gaze. “And he'll see nothing else.”

Loudon clapped his hands against the table. “Well, we're all going to die. I'll let Adrabi know,” he said cheerfully, standing.

Delia, Lifen, Kita, and Camille rose as well. The hour to get caught up was over—Adrabi and Lox were the only ones keeping tabs over the book at Excelsine—and it was time to shift members.

As the others exited, the remaining Bandits and combat mages put their heads together, tablets out, and started flipping through books and texts. Fully formed books popped up for some, while others were using specialty search spells that projected pages, text, and diagrams into the air.

Temporal Physics and Interdimensional Travel in the Physical Age flashed, indicating incoming mages.

Adrabi and Lox tumbled through...

...along with someone no one had planned to see. My breath caught.

“She whammied us, but passed the vow. I feel terrible,” Lox said, and both staggered, then fell. I didn't watch to see who helped them stand.

Stevens, who had landed on her feet, strode over and gazed down at me, something fierce in her usually cold expression.

I looked around and saw everyone watching, magic ready on many fingertips. But Stevens had none on hers. And she had passed the vow we had put into place on the other side—a self-preservation vow that had been demanded by the books. Stevens couldn't mean anyone or anything harm inside.

“How did you find us?” I asked.

“Your little squad, though brilliant, is conspicuous. And they can't escape administrative magic, no matter how much they try.”

“You tracked them.”

“Grey, Phillip, and I have been keeping track since you left. The world is in tumult. Each hour is critical. Mwamba sends his regards.” She threw five of our shield field prototypes and I caught them against my chest.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Thank you. Tell Professor Mbozi thank you,” I whispered.

“He demands a recollection of the box's use at Crelussa, when you are back on campus.”

I swallowed and nodded slowly, achingly, looking down at the fields we had created together. “I can't wait to use up seven hours of his time.”

“You exceed,” she murmured. “You've exceeded.”

I wiped at my eyes. It was like someone else telling me I had done an outstanding job. “I’ve made a bit of a mess.”

“And yet, you exceed.”

I looked up at her. “We will.”

She looked me over for another long moment. “Show me where to set up. Time constructs are terrible for the skin.”

I looked at her, hope filling me. “I thought you said you were the person most dangerous to me.”

“Yes.” She smiled—and for a moment, she was Stavros's daughter through and through. “I'm also plenty dangerous to him. Timing, Ren. All information was locked within me long ago with no way of telling anyone what I knew. Locked down by him. And when I'd finally found happiness, he took it away.”

And I could see it, suddenly, within the memories of the yearbook. A cold girl who had never experienced warmth, suddenly befriended and brought into a tight fold by a laughing, golden boy, alongside his dark tattooed friend, a powerful mage who was also trying to escape being born to the dark, and an offbeat mage who liked explosions and made me think of Loudon. A cold girl who had become enlivened, enriched, and...happy. I looked at Olivia, who was clenching her fists.

“I've had ten years to plan.” Stevens regarded me for a moment. “You were a surprise. But I had years to plan for something. An event or hope that I could cling to. A person that could end what I knew father might someday start. And with you, I know who the targets will be. And I bet you have a plan for that. I have an alternative offering.”

Axer shifted around her, like a predator examining prey. She watched him from the corners of her eyes without turning.

He looked to me, to Constantine, to Ramirez, then back to her as he finally stood in front of her. “We do have a role for you, Professor, if we can trust you.”

She looked at him and held forth her bare right wrist—an action that caused more than one person to inhale sharply. Though some mages freely showed their personal markings, most wore some sort of cover, or expediently kept their control cuff over top. Stevens was not the sort to bare hers. Ever.

A broken set of five rings was tattooed so deeply in her wrist, that it looked as if they had been carved there. One of the rings was mangled and pitted, another was so sharply thinned that it looked like it would break with any physical movement, two were worn and scarred but still trying to clasp together with all the others, and the fifth was also still clasped, but dim.

“He took everything from me, long ago,” she said, securing her cuff back over top. “Give me whatever vow sealant you want. I will see justice finally served. I will see him gone.”

Axer looked at me, then nodded.

Vow taken, and our plans revealed to her, Stevens returned to Excelsine to retrieve her things and to bring another inside.

Greyskull was eagerly mobbed by the Bandits and pulled into construction tasks. No one needed a vow to know where he stood on Enton Stavros's downfall. Greyskull and Will put their heads together immediately, going over permissions, tattoos, and vows.

After a quick intro to the library, Stevens began unpacking supplies and calling on books. An eager one helped set up a working lab.

Five hours later, with occasional aid from Greyskull, Constantine, Will, Greene, Adrabi, and Neph, we had batches of things far beyond our initial planning.

“Thank you for helping,” I said to Stevens, who was quietly stirring.

She didn't say anything for a long moment. “You are one of my brightest students. I expect you to excel next year.”

I swallowed down the clog in my throat, the one that said we both knew that wasn't likely to be possible, and nodded. “I will.”

Constantine had been helping frequently, but he had gone off with Neph to execute one of the most important steps. He returned as we finished up another potion, connections shining from him. Stevens looked at the connections, then sharply at the vials in Constantine's hand. “You will indeed surpass me one day.”

“I will.”

For a second there was a ghost of a smile curling her lips, then it was gone. She withdrew the pair of silver earrings and cufflinks that we had imbued with modified versions of our shield field, as well as a slew of other spells. We fiddled with the magic and encapsulation effects of the connections for another two hours. Then finally, finally it was done.

I looked at the earrings and took a deep breath. It felt like safety. Like a heat resistant glove for fighting a dragon—what we were making was slim, but at least there was a chance.

Stevens held up a tiny vial of the brightest green with a sliver of a sickly ochre weaving through it, as if seeking escape. “I've been holding onto this for many years. To be used two steps before the end.”

Constantine's gaze greedily devoured the vial. I could see his hands itching to grab it. “We could have used that at Crelussa.”

“And yet, you survived without wasting a priceless artifact,” she said.

“We should reverse engineer it first,” Constantine said, gaze fixed on the tiny vial.

“I've tried,” Stevens said briskly, breaking the seal. “And failed. Be glad I didn't try more. There's just enough for this.”

I looked between them. “That will hide the wearer?”

She smiled grimly and poured the mixture carefully on the earrings and cufflinks, then let it set. Thirty minutes later, I felt nothing from the jewelry. No magic of any kind. Each piece was neutered. And when Constantine lifted one, I could no longer feel him.

I quickly made him put it back down, getting a taste of what he’d felt when Stavros had severed me.

“You are certain the spells still exist underneath?” I asked, rubbing at my elbow.

Stevens lifted an earring and turned it between her fingers, the feel of her going blank, as if her magic no longer existed. “Without price, this potion, and only three vials in existence—the formula lost to the world in the mind of a scientist who fell with The Golden City. Apropos that we use it for this.”

To stop the end of a world.

Her gaze lifted to mine. “Two steps before the end, Ren. We are counting on you. Hold your emotions tight.”

She tucked the earrings and cufflinks carefully into her cloak pocket and left without further fanfare or farewell. Constantine gazed at the pocket where she had stored the jewelry with something close to desire as she disappeared.

I poked him in the side. “What say you we figure out how to make that potion, after?”

Hooded eyes shifted to me. “Marry me.”

“I thought we were already engaged?” I asked, yawning.

“Don't say such lovely things, darling. I'll hold you to them.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “I'd probably be fine in a harem, actually. More people to do science with.”

“I don't think you understand what a harem is.” He looked amused, though, which had been my point.

With Stevens' departure, we were far past a thirty-hour cycle inside, and fatigue was catching up.

I yawned again. “Oh, I almost forgot. I figured out what we needed while working with Stevens. Vampire containers.”

He raised a brow. “Vampire containers?”

“Evil ones. You know, you stick one against someone and”—I sucked in my cheeks—“drained. My magic to create the container, yours to make the person pass out, and Axer's to leech it all in. We can probably get some of Neph in there, too, to make the person have good dreams. Don't have to be totally evil about it, though the people we are going to use them against totally deserve it.”

He bent down and looked me in one eye, then the other.

“I haven't been possessed.”

“Right.” He straightened back up. “You want to make containers that drain a mage's powers? You want to give me an army of zombie magic? I accept.”

“No, that's not what I—”

He smiled.

I pointed. “You'll be working with Axer on it.”

His smile grew. He leaned in. “Cute, that you think Alexi won't put in worse.”

My fingers triangled over my brows and pushed out above my closed eyes. “Con.”

“We'll get it done. No worries.”

“Now I'm really worried.”

“You should have thought of that before trusting either of us, and especially both of us together.”

“Ugh.” But I couldn't stifle a third yawn.

“Come on.” He shifted me toward the sleeping nest that Neph had constructed at some point while I wasn't looking.

I looked at her suspiciously, then up at Constantine, then to Neph again. “Did you make me tired?”

She looked back with a raised brow. “After you've been working nonstop in a draining temporal environment for thirty hours on end? Would I have to?”

I looked between her and Constantine, then face planted in the pillows and turned to burrow deeper. “You can't fool me. I'm on to you both.”

Like me cashing it in was a signal to everyone else, the others abandoned their half-finished projects and flocked over to talk, tease, and relax.

Our connections gleamed, and I touched them all and smiled.

Sleeping arrangements turned hilarious, though, as everyone hunkered down to get a few hours rest. Neph was uninterested in any sleeping position that wasn't plastered against my side. Olivia quickly claimed the other side, glaring at both boys, who seemed more amused than anything.

I let sleep take me, and followed the gold threads to where I knew they would lead.