Mike groggily moved his head.
Mussolgranz smiled. “First things first, though. Information before experimentation. Tedious, but research requires munits, and munits are delivered by others. Let's make this quick, shall we? You give me your memories of everything, boy, and I will be quick to reorder your brain into something new. You'll barely feel it. You'll just be...free.”
Mussolgranz pulled magic upward and the images going through Mike's mind were visible in the air.
“Go to hell.”
Mussolgranz smiled again. “You don't have the capability to avoid my serum. So, it was really a question of courtesy.”
The drip of the serum hit the memory like oil spilled in water, immediately breaking into separate drops, like a thin spatter of toxic clouds over Mike's mind.
“Really quite amazing what one finds in the minds of the university. One of your own professors developed this serum. Our Prestige's daughter. To force the truth from another. Causes a catatonic state in a non-magical human, of course. But in a concentrated dose, a mage can be kept under thrall of the questioner for quite some time.”
Mike shouted one last time as the magic formed into one cloud.
“Tell us where Ren Crown's family lives.”
“No.” But it was weaker this time, and the toxicity grew. The picture of an address from a memory came to mind, but he blocked it just in time.
“Tell us.”
The memory grew clearer.
“No.”
“Tell us.”
“No.”
“Dear boy, you will tell us.”
The film wiped away all thought to disobey. Mike started screaming and the knowledge flashed in the air.
I closed my eyes at the same time that I felt the wards on my parent's house break.
The ties to them ripped away.
“And now, what do you choose, Ren Crown?”
I yelled and yanked the entire net around the culling, putting the world back into order.
Stavros smiled. “Temporary fixes. Like the state of your parents' lives. You have fifteen minutes.”
I grabbed Guard Rock and our supplies and threw us through the portal pad.
I slammed into the hard floor of the Western Territories' atrium.
The low-tech communications network Constantine had embedded in the compound stuttered to half-life.
“He has them,” I said, breathing heavily.
“We saw it.” Dagfinn's voice was tight and grave, all grim seriousness. “Bailey made your feed live. Crown—”
“It's all over the feeds,” Olivia said. She sounded winded. “And twenty million people are witness to Stavros trying to murder them. And to Ren saving them.”
“Even his supporters, even if they want the whole Third Layer destroyed, can't advocate for mass genocide and survive the forming mob crowds. They are shutting up and slinking away,” Loudon said. “The hunt is on, we could—”
“He has them,” I repeated.
The comms went silent.
“Do you—”
“No,” Olivia said forcefully through our communications, interrupting Loudon. “We stick to the plan.”
“But the plan—”
“I know,” she said grimly.
“Losing Leandred... What does that mean?” Loudon said. I could hear him chewing his fingernails.
“They are still alive, just nullified,” Olivia said. “We know Stavros wants Dare. But Leandred...”
No one knew what would happen if Stavros or Mussolgranz got hold of Constantine. Stavros hardly needed a mage with Mind Magic capabilities, however rare. Though...
“He'll want to gloat.” I hit my palm against the floor. “He won't kill them—either of them. Not if he can use them. He'll want to gloat.”
“But—”
“And he can use Constantine against Axer,” I said, ruthlessly overriding. “He knows they're bonded. It won't be hard to test the strength of the bond. He'll use Constantine if for nothing else than to kill him specifically in some game or test for Axer down the line. Constantine's not a disposable pawn for an opening gambit.” I touched my elbow with its still vibrant threads.
But if that was a miscalculation...if he did kill him... I raked my fingers through my hair. “They are both still alive. We can't do anything about it now. We have to hurry. We have to go forward with the notion that Constantine still has a part to play.”
That he would remain alive.
“Ren, if he's kil—”
“No. No alternatives. This will happen the way I say it will.” I ground my finger into stone. I took a deep breath. “I did not end the world. I will not end the world. I will do what is needed to save it. I will reach the end. I will remove Stavros. And then, and only then, will I deal with everything that fails on the way.”
I repeated the litany in my head. I clenched my eyes shut. I couldn't end the world if one of them died.
“We need our backup plan. Just in case,” Will said. I could feel his agony. He would have seen what happened to Mike through my feed.
“Yes,” I agreed. Constantine wasn't here to kill me for the decision. I tightened my lips. No, I couldn't think of what might be happening.
“No,” Olivia said.
“We need him.”
“I don't trust him.”
“We need him.” I pushed away from the floor and pulled the portal pad.
“I can be there,” Neph murmured. “Do you—”
“No.” I closed my eyes. “I need you there. Find Mussolgranz. Delia, the secondary diversion?”
I didn't directly ask if she was still capable. She wouldn't appreciate it.
“I'm on it,” she said with a level of darkness that we would need to heal afterward. “I know where our combat mages are holed up. Camille shared their battle frequency yesterday.”
I nodded. “I have ten minutes, then I'm going in.”
“As Stavros expects you to,” Olivia said grimly. “Hell, if you weren't going to leave a bunch of nameless ferals, you aren't going to leave those two idiots. And you definitely aren't leaving your parents at his mercy. He knows you will come.”
I looked at the magic pooling in my palm. “Let's not keep him waiting.”
*
I gripped the address Greyskull had given me the last time I had seen him. Before... No. I had to trust that everything was going to be fine. I couldn't think of any of the others.
“What does Ren Crown choose,” I whispered.
I took a deep breath and wrapped the portal pad around me. I emerged on the doorstep and looked at the door plate. 257 Maple. Funny Fate, so funny. I slipped the paper into my pocket and wrapped the knocker against the door.
A man opened the door—a man I had only seen before in memory.
Lachlan Lassiter.
And behind him—
“Hello, Butterfly.”
Chapter Thirty: Other Parts
Mike
Explosions rocked the prison.
“About time,” Mike muttered. It had been hours. He had started to wonder...
There was little magic in the cell, by design, but the mind spells necessitated the barest magic be available.
Precise, beautiful hail tore from his finger and sliced the ward. He sneered at the console techs, who were freaking out about the attack happening somewhere in the prison, broke the lock, and let hail fly. Their bodies flopped to the floor.