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.”