The Rise of Ren Crown by Anne Zoelle Page B

calculating and sly glances.
    “He-her-here,” someone stuttered. Magic “supplements” were shoved into my hand by a scared-looking slip of a mage who had been tasked with delivering them where needed.
    “Crown, back to your room,” the dorm head said, frowning. “Medical will come for you.”
    I pushed out of my seat, happy to leave the staring behind.
    Back in my room, I chucked the supplements into the trash and started scrubbing my desk. They wanted me to feel better? Destroying the taint that Helen Price had left behind would make me feel better.
    I hoped she had accidentally ported to hell.
    A discordant tone rang through the air like a mangled foghorn. From my tablet, I could hear voices on the main frequency channel stilling, then a voice that sounded like Patrick's said, “Here comes lockdown, hold onto your butts!”
    I sat on my bed and leaned against my window, magic sponge in hand. Outside, the magic shimmered, then grids of air flipped like invisible louvers, one after another, molding together and locking—sealing us in.
    Trapped.
    From my tablet, I could hear the voices of the other students. It was a discordant background mix—a low hum of nervous, traumatized voices, blending with calm and steady ones. How officials were justifying this to the parents across the Second Layer, I had no idea. Although, until mages reached the age of twenty-two, society considered them unsteady—not yet ready to be out in the world making independent magical decisions. Even in the First Layer, where eighteen was considered adulthood, none of the adults really seemed to trust anyone during that four-year spread.
    It was some sort of weird limbo where we were expected to act like adults, but always with the air that we weren't really.
    They'd trapped us in here. For our own good .
    I looked around my room. Olivia's things sat immobile.
    I looked out the window. At the Department stooges combing campus. At the panels of magic keeping us locked inside. Safe against the outside. Trapped within. With supplements, and calming spells, and empty reassurances.
    While they chose our paths for us.
    I would have traded myself for Olivia today. I would have bitten Raphael's obvious lure.
    It would have been a stupid choice. I knew that—because with me under his control, Raphael could pinch Olivia's life force between two fingers—but the choice to go with him had been made from emotion, instinctive.
    Emotion that had been telling me that only I could fix things.
    I looked at the empty bed across the room.
    But I wasn't the only one involved. I hadn't been for days now, weeks.
    I dropped the sponge, and slowly picked up my tablet. Before we'd had the scarves in place, we had used a temp system.
    Taking a deep breath, I clicked a button and said, “Hello?”
    A flurry of voices answered, magically wrapping around me.
    “Lady-in-waiting, we've been waiting for you to call,” Patrick said, in a satisfied voice—though there was a large dose of relief to his tone as well.
    Other members added their comments as well, their voices more subdued. They were waiting for me to speak. Justice Toad was vibrating with the tension of it.
    I wondered how long they'd been waiting for me.
    I swallowed and activated the charm that popped everyone's full-color holograms into view, then spread them out in a visual grid before me. It was similar to what Godfrey had done hours before—spreading nearly the entirety of the Second Layer in view.
    Faces appeared, arrayed in front of me. I was so overcome with relief that I had to get hold of myself for a moment. These people had helped me save campus.
    Patrick said, “Got to tell you, Crown. Was worried there for a bit.”
    I focused on his hologram.
    “Worried you might go all—” He made a looping motion around his head. “And scupper without any of us the wiser.”
    I cleared my throat. “No. I, uh, worked through a few things.”
    Whatever that tunneling light had been when Marsgrove had