I sighed. I knew more than most of what Constantine was capable. “Well, being in the spotlight doesn't help him stay under the radar.”
Olivia's expression sharpened. “That he is one of your companions has been a matter of public record since Bloody Tuesday. Leandred was unmasked in Corpus Sun, and the three of us emerged from the Midlands together. Stavros can't do anything other than trail conspiracy theories, though. Not unless something drastic occurs, like Leandred showcasing magic that only he can create. We established precedence during the rescue for all three of us—four, including Dare—that Stavros will implicate all of us in his lies to gain control of you. That the Department attempted to trap you falsely.”
“Stavros's traps are getting harder to evade.”
And his smiles... Those smiles haunted me—like a man who knew he was going to win. A man who enjoyed playing the cat and mouse game, testing out pawns just to watch them flounder while he baited the trap. I sent her an album of memories: his smugness, his bravado, his traps, his displeasure.
After she examined the images with her detailed mind, she looked up at me, frowning. “You painted and were overflowing with magic. He would have sensed that, so he activated an Awakening, hoping you would make a mistake.”
“And I'm going to.” I pulled a hand over my mouth. “I feel invincible in the moment, but when I have a chance to think...” The rage was far more concerning, because it was always there, waiting. “I know every new move is a preface to something worse. And I'm playing against someone who anticipates my moves and mistakes.”
Olivia leaned forward. “Whatever his magic, this is part of his gift. He rose to power by successfully manipulating those around him until they revolved solely around his gravitational field. His words are as damaging as the magic he possesses. That is the danger of Enton Stavros. That is the danger in dancing to his tune.”
I could hear what she wasn't saying, of how her mother manipulated people in the same way, of how she too had once bloodied her feet trying to please Helen Price.
I moved restlessly. “How do I not dance?”
“Everyone dances.” Olivia stared at the wall, then looked back at me. “Figure out a way to change the tune. Create a new song.” Feelings of love, companionship, and desperation wound through me, and even the holographic interface couldn't dim their projected strength.
I thought of Liam's beautiful music. “The new mages have wonderful gifts. I can't let them be extinguished.”
Can't allow them to be left broken and emptied in the concrete casket of an abandoned lot.
“You won't. That is why others are aiding in their rescues.”
“I...want to be the one to save them,” I said, admitting it for a second time, with just as much difficulty.
“Of course, you do,” she said in the brisk way she said all things she found fact, but her holographic fingers gently touched my hair. “And you are. For you are identifying each and sending a team to keep them safe. Focus on that.”
“The Awakenings are my fault, in a different way than the media reports claim, but true all the same.”
“Any who say so are idiots.”
“They aren't wrong.”
A pause. “No,” she said. “But the fault is not an active one and they should not place the responsibility on you.”
I smiled crookedly. “It's ironic how things don't seem to work that way.”
“Pay no attention to fools.” She sniffed, making me smile for real. “You may not have called your enablers, but you did call your strategist and the most intelligent of our mad bunch. I believe in you.”
My throat suddenly felt clogged. “I miss you.”
I wish you were here, but I'm so happy you are not.
Olivia looked older suddenly, and sad. “I miss you, too. Come home soon.”
“I want to. I want to come home.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Ori flew in melancholy dips around the room, as if feeling the emotion. Guard Rock's pencil was resting across his knees, rock tilted toward where Guard Friend would be.
We sat there, holographically clutching each other, and I was angry suddenly, so angry that I was here. That I had been forced into this exile, away from that which I held dear.
She clutched at me with sure, shaking hands in the optically counterfeit enclosure of space.
“Don't go out anymore, even if you are needed,” she said into my hair.
“I can't not go.”
Her grip tightened. “I know.”
*
There were nine more Awakenings in half as many days. We were far more prepared for them, though, and for Stavros’s tricks. With Constantine’s help—and a small leech—I used his magic to overlay mine, and I quickly figured out how to decipher the coordinates without even leaving the turret for the last six Awakenings.
All nine new mages were spirited to safety by the combat mages. Even Camille Straught had given me a sharp holographic nod at the smoothly run procedure we were developing.
My guilt over not going on the rescues quickly gave way to the comfort of victory.
None of it assuaged the public’s concern over the increasing numbers, though.
A Department press conference had been scheduled to publicly address the increased “trouble” in the layers.
I turned on the news feeds, engaging an enchantment I had learned from Bellacia that allowed me to access ten different feeds and source them for similarities and differences. It was an efficient way to glean facts from opinions and note information that needed further investigation. Front and center was the majority feed highlighting all the points that the ten primary sources agreed on, even if they were couched in political leanings one way or the other—the spell stripped them down to the basics. t Floating off to the sides were the editorialized pieces, ranging from vastly amusing to downright infuriating.
Gradually the printed text and photos faded and a live feed featuring footage of Excelsine rolled in the background.
“With the increased number of mages aiding the Origin Mage at the Awakenings, abettors and sympathizers have been identified within the Excelsine community, and have been added to the Watch List, to which Dean Phillip Marsgrove, former Red Arm of Central Intelligence, reacted with vehemence.”
Marsgrove, in all his pinstriped glory stood in front of one of the flags on Top Circle. “To label fifteen students as terrorist sympathizers simply because they were classmates is both negligent and criminal. The Department is using any means necessary to achieve their directive of placing Ren Crown under their control. Take heed, the next one on their list might be you.”