The Protection of Ren Crown (2 page)

Read The Protection of Ren Crown Online

Authors: Anne Zoelle

Tags: #YA, #Fantasy & Magic

BOOK: The Protection of Ren Crown
5.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Think about it, though,” I said as we grabbed the slips that spit out from a box on the side of the portal. “It could be
fantastic.

I grinned at her, but then immediately grimaced as I read my visitation slip. The magical scan had allocated me with a one hour and five minute period in the library today. Five minutes less than yesterday, and ten minutes less than the day before.

If the sequence continued, I wasn't going to be able to enter at all. Or maybe I'd just be digested while stepping through the port one day.

Because, while the library was awesomely magical and contained a bit of everything from the magic world, the Library of Alexandria was sentient.

And carnivorous.

Thus, the real-time scanner that examined each mage and issued a slip, precisely allocating the time that the mage had before the library started chewing. While Olivia's one hour and forty minute allocation had stayed steady, the library was looking to chomp me sooner with every visit.

There was nothing I could do about that, at present, so I shoved the paper into my back pocket and continued needling my roommate.

“Besides, Olivia,” I said, multitasking as I set a timer in my head, grabbed a cloak from a peg, and plotted the fastest way to the warding books and materials I needed. “
You
are the one who wants to take over the world. I imagine that includes all five layers of the Earth—the four magical ones and the non-magical one too.”

Olivia glanced sharply at the guards stationed at the entrance to the library's soaring, sharply-curved, golden atrium. They were standing smartly at attention as if guarding Buckingham Palace, but their gazes looked even more vacant than usual.

“A 'magical bender' is not a path to dictatorial splendor,” Olivia hissed.

I cheekily waved at the guards and, as expected, received no response. Olivia grabbed my hand from the air and pushed me into the atrium.

“Not a
proven
path,” I said, letting her manhandle me. “But on our journey, we could come across some magical trinket that will ensure you a long and terrifying rule—like a ring, or a medallion, or a fiercely magical toenail.
Think
about it, Liv.”

Her shoulders relaxed at the nickname. She would have shot me for assigning one to her weeks ago. “Wards first, splendor and terror second,” Olivia said, dryly.

I grinned.

My grin slipped, though, as we walked through the portrait gallery just past the library's breathtaking entrance. Paintings covered every bit of wall space and were secured with thick spells. Deep alcoves contained individual observation benches and particularly special pieces. My gaze shifted to one alcove and one painting in particular, as it did every time I passed. The lovely woman draped in beautifully mixed oils was watching me. Again.

The hair on my neck stood on end.

Olivia deliberately picked up our pace, hurrying me past. We hadn't spoken of the portrait, but there was no doubt in my mind that the artist who had created the extraordinary piece in Ganymede Circus had created this one as well—Sergei Kinsky, the last mage capable of wielding Origin Magic, both a god and bogeyman.

Olivia didn't have to tell me that I didn't have the time to study the magnificent work of art. She also didn't have to explicitly state that I couldn't afford to be seen doing so.

As it had for the last three days, my heart only stopped racing when we broke from the main corridor and entered the gallery tunnel webbed by thousands of complex and interconnected wards. My fingers brushed the access panel and quickly pulled up visuals of the wards that were on my day's to-do list. Colored lines and shapes zipped and zoomed across the indexed screen and I pressed the button for “educational activation,” which pulled my twelve selected wards from the web and into the area where I could study and internalize them individually.

I took a deep breath, centering my magic. Replicating each magic and setting it to paper would require the entirety of my allotted library time.

My parents had “acquired” twenty-seven new pieces of frameless art in the past two days. After today, a dozen more would be attached to their walls.

Using one of the library spells, Olivia conjured a table and two chairs next to the staging area. We dropped our bags on the tabletop.

“How much time do you have today?” she asked.

“Fifty-five minutes after the cloak.” The cloak protected me from the library's 'taste sampling' inclinations so that I didn't have to expend the energy to protect myself. I had seen more than one screaming person run down the halls after being sampled. But everything had a cost, and time was one of the most precious bargaining chips here. By increasing the magic around me like it did, the cloak cost ten minutes of my allocated time.

I touched the first ward I was interested in replicating and wrapped it around me, absorbing it into my senses—taste, sight, sound, texture, purpose. The sensations coalesced into a dimensional picture in the eye of my mind and I stamped the image into memory, then sealed the associated sensations into the skin and bone of my fingers.

I released the ward and stepped back, shuddering at the discharge of the sensory overload. The real world snapped back around me. Not for the first time, I ached to discover what the other sections of the library could offer. Someday I would.

“I could live here and not be bored for a thousand years, Liv.”

Unsurprisingly, Olivia rolled her eyes. She hated coming here and never left the table once she placed all the appropriate protections. There were too many elements outside of her control in the library, and she hated things out of her control.

“The library would suck you dry in the one minute succeeding your fifty-five allotted ones, then feast on your bones for that thousand years,” she said.

“Might be worth it.” I flipped open my folio and extracted the specially designed sheets of paper I had created during the last week of fall term. I had created them just for this purpose—to put wards to paper. To protect my family.

The sensation of the ward swirled beneath the skin of my fingers, ready to push through my pencil and come alive on the page.

“You ready?” Olivia asked. She was researching the protections that had been previously placed on my parents' house. We needed to make sure that what I was installing wouldn't conflict and destroy the house while the new wards were seeking to replace the old ones.

“Yes. Yesterday's batch settled in well. I'm feeling positive,” I said.

“Using paper was smart, and you have a talent for this.”

“The first time I died I was attached to a billion wards. That helps, I think.” It also helped that the defensive wards were responding to my overwhelming need to protect.

“Having a photographic memory for images and the ability to put an exact likeness to paper likely helps just as much,” Olivia remarked dryly.

“That too,” I said, twirling my pencil. Using magic was exhilarating and art made my magic sing. If only I could use it everywhere.

If only I could draw
directly
on the walls of my parents' house... But using magic in the non-magical First Layer was impossible for normal mages without a container like Olivia's, and would, without a doubt, bring the magical spooks of the Department right to my door—the opposite of what I was trying to do.

So for the past three days while my parents had been under the assumption that I was showing Olivia around our town, we had been returning to the Second Layer, and bit by bit I was constructing new protection wards and embedding them in the fibers of the paper. Olivia was transporting the papers containing the wards through the checkpoint to the First Layer with the crazy all-access pass that similarly allowed her to take a container full of magic into the non-magic world.

I gave Olivia's foot a bump under the table and started drawing, making the ward become a physical representation on the page through color, design, dimension, and imbued purpose.

With Christian gone, my life's focus had been...redirected. My vital need to protect and attend him had transferred wholly to a small group of people, of which Olivia had moved dangerously close to center.

We were taking care of my parents' safety right now, so that when I left for school again after the holidays, I could leave without worrying that the repercussions from my actions last term would negatively affect them.

And so that I would not worry about the wards that were
already
in place on the house—the ones set by Raphael Verisetti, a notorious terrorist who killed without remorse. He had placed enchantments on my parents' house before my magical Awakening in order to hide my presence from the magical world. In order to hide me until he could use me, betray me, and collect my magic—along with the magic that had transferred to me when Christian had been murdered during his Awakening.

Despite the absolute beauty and intricacy of Raphael's wards, I could not let them remain in place without designing my own checkmate. I swallowed down my anger and got to work.

Thirty minutes in, the library desk ate my folio. Wooden jaws then reached up and grabbed my pencil. I released the vine charcoal just before the jaws clamped my uncovered fingers too. The library swallowed my magical pencil with a gulp.

Olivia sighed and gave me an irritated wave. “Go.” This wasn't the first time the library had eaten my things, even with all the protections Olivia implemented each visit.

I rose and sprinted to the materials section, my cloak's hem flying wildly over marble floors. Hungry magical objects trailed behind me and swooped at my sides, trying to nip any part of me that the cloak revealed as I moved.

Each section in the library was delineated by its time period or subject matter. The materials section was constructed completely of magical materials. Every chair, table, lamp, and rug was an exquisite piece to study. There were books, tomes, scrolls, constructs, and screens, of course. But there were also objects that were far more unusual. Cutting edge magical technology. Every few minutes something new would appear when someone, somewhere, added a new piece of technology or magic to the collection.

However, sometimes the library bypassed the system and independently acquired pieces
it
thought ought to be included.

I located my folio and papers quickly in an “inbound” stack and grabbed them. An outraged roar from the southern wall didn't faze me this time, and I sprinted back to the warding gallery—passing a group of mages dragging long, purple boxes—while marble nipped at my heels.

The library ate knowledge and magic, incorporating everything into its catalogs and limitless memory. Even with the cloak, books flew out to brush along the bared skin of my fingers, chairs wrapped around me, and magic swirled through my hair, despite the enchantments in place. It tried this with me more than with Olivia, possibly because I was always doing stupid things unconsciously, like connecting to every little piece of the library that took my interest. I
loved
it here.

But Olivia had forced me to watch a traumatizing instructional video before we'd entered the halls the first time. The library
would
consume anyone who stayed past their time limit.

Excelsine's libraries, unlike Alexandria’s, had special properties and wards that allowed enrolled students unlimited access within its walls—a priceless bonus. But because of the restrictions implicit in the allowance, Excelsine's libraries couldn't contain truly intense magics like those in the warding hall. Which was devastating, as the piddly little hour I was allowed here didn't include time for adventure.

Not like those lucky mages with four or five hours printed on their slips. So unfair.

I repeated the sentiment to Olivia as I collapsed back into my seat and took the ward stone she handed to me. I placed the stone on top of the folio and papers. Using the ward stone would shave three minutes off my allowance tally, but running again would expend five.

“Lucky?” She gave me an unimpressed look. “Normal magic users, the kind who get four hours here because the library can't be bothered to eat them sooner, can't do that.” She pointed at the creations on my pages.

“I'm normal!” I argued. “People do crazy things at school all the time.”

“Excelsine educates some of the most powerful young magic users anywhere.” It sounded like she was reading from a brochure, her voice haughty and disdainful. “You aren't used to normal, Ren. Or average. Most mages would be jealous of your one-hour limit here and what it means.”

“Eh,” I said, equally dismissive, as I stood and approached the web of wards. “Bursts of madness are great, definitely, but if a mage is diligent, she can build magic into a device or ward over time and make powerful things no matter her power level.”

And then spend as much time as she wanted
here
, enveloped by magic.

I wrapped myself in another ward and breathed it in before letting it go. I drew it with fast and sure fingers, then chewed the cap at the end of my pencil, examining the complicated image to make sure everything was correct.

“I think people underestimate the importance of diligence and working at something for years, Sistine Chapel style,” I mused.

“Nothing you say will convince me that you would rather spend three months doing something that takes you twenty minutes now.”

“Time itself? I could use a vacation.”

Something akin to a growl came from Olivia.

“Being an idiot means I'm normal,” I said cheerfully, tickled. The Olivia Price of two months ago wouldn't
growl.

Ten minutes later, I had completed three more papers. Olivia poked a finger toward the clock in the corner. When I looked up, a single digit appeared on the face, indicating my remaining library time.

“Almost done. Do you think—?”

My query was lost in a massive boom that shook the entire building.

Olivia immediately swept everything into her bag and thrust her chair back.

I followed suit, fumbling with the strap of my bag as I shook off the arms of the chair that tried to pin me in place. “I have
seven more minutes
.”

Other books

Black Hills Badman by Jon Sharpe
Genesis Plague by Sam Best
The Memory of Trees by F. G. Cottam
The Sword And The Olive by van Creveld, Martin
Just a Little Faith by Amy J. Norris
Dawn of a New Day by Gilbert Morris
The Better Man by Hebert, Cerian
Crimson and Clover by Juli Page Morgan