Guard Rock stood, ready.
And suddenly, I could see the change in the Spartine fight. New guards swarmed from portals wearing new faces and forms—their forms changing with each person who met their enchanted eyes—forming pieced together versions of someone the fighters on our side had loved and lost.
And I knew the moment that one of them turned into Sashia Mayr Leandred. I saw Constantine freeze, for just a second. Saw Axer grab and throw him from harm. Saw the hand with a null cuff fall and attach to Axer. Saw the transport doorway open.
And my hands were full of the dead, the remaining ten million I needed to save, and the world-breaking magic around it.
There was nothing I could do about Axer. Not if I didn't want to let ten million people die, not if I didn't want to end the world.
There was nothing I could do about it. By design.
Axer was nullified. The portal doorway was open. And it wasn't any grunt that was taking him. It was Mussolgranz reaching through with a pair of hot tongs.
Constantine looked up at one of the small surveillance devices on the wall Dagfinn had tapped into, directly into my eyes, and his fingers slid along the skin of his elbow, regret and determination in his gaze.
My eyes went wide. “No. No.”
Constantine was in a defensible position. He could get out.
But he was already moving, tossing the cat safely from his cloak and diving in after Axer while throwing a spell at Mussolgranz.
“Fall back!” Lox yelled. The combat mages immediately initiated a series of complicated maneuvers to retreat to a designated location in the prison. The cat scampered after them, and Greene scooped it up.
Constantine and Axer's connections stuttered, then went dark.
My legs gave out and my pelvis hit the back of one splayed calf, trapping it limply against the ground. I stared at the empty space in the feed and held on with all my might to the lives in my hands.
“Dammit Leandred,” Olivia said quietly, then all the voices in my head went dark.
Constantine had been the hub.
He'd been the hub for weeks, plastered against my side.
Stavros was laughing. I saw the praetorians. Saw Kaine. But if Kaine was here, he couldn’t be carving into Axer and Constantine yet. My heart squeezed.
“Weakness. Who is your best ally now, Miss Crown? Soon you will have none. You should let go, my dear,” he said soothingly. “What is a million more? I can give you your enemies. You will need to make some...choices.”
And he flashed a recording along the wall.
I let the tears fall, holding firm, pulling another hundred thousand back, even while I watched the recording play.
Mike was setting charges along the waterfront, his attention elsewhere as the shadows lengthened.
Patrick was behind him, downing a potion. I saw the potion do its work, loosening and breaking all the ties that had formed through Excelsine.
“Time's up, Givens.”
There was a certain amount of regret in the darkness underlying Patrick's voice that made Mike look up and step back automatically. “What do you—”
Five O'Leary thugs stood behind him. I recognized all of them from the supply drop. Five Department forms stepped from the shadows.
Mike stiffened. “So, you picked a side after all.”
Patrick smiled darkly. “A side? Nah. A broadside, maybe. No shot across the bow.” His fingers darted through the air and made a little explosion as if they had hit something with a force to sink it.
“That's the thing I love about O'Leary's.” The man smiled cruelly, as he looked over the lack of non-family connections on the third son. “You can always be bought.”
“You say it like we'd find it an insult.” Jameson O’Leary, Patrick’s father, stepped into view from where he’d been shielded behind the others. “Let's see it.”
The man held out his hand. Three rose sapphires and an elixir rested in his palm.
O'Leary looked hungrily at the sapphires.
“From your old family treasures, yes?” The man idly rolled them around in his hand. “Still a bit of power in them. Let's hear your traitor tales.”
Patrick's face tightened. “We test the elixir first, then we play.”
“Feeling sentimental? I'm feeling generous.” The man smiled and handed over the entire vial. An O’Leary scooped it up to test. “Unusual in a thief and villain. And I know the sapphires are what you really seek.”
The tester nodded confirmation of the elixir and Patrick relaxed.
“Now, my information?” the Department thug said.
Jameson O'Leary grinned savagely, eyes on the sapphires, and pulled Mike forward. “Got something better than tales. This one knows a little of everything,” he said roughly. “Especially whatever the Tasky kid knows. Always included, always listening, high memory retention. Has all the Tasky kid's memories. And those are worth gold if you want dirt on Crown.”
The man's eyes narrowed in on Mike. “The Givens child?”
“Got his family, didn't you?” Patrick said roughly, an unmistakable directive in his tone.
The man slowly smiled. “Yes, I think we will have quite a use for him.” He looked over at Patrick and his smile grew edged. “And you and yours, while we are at it.”
“Naw. See that's where you aren't thinking.” Jameson tapped his right temple. Fifteen more men bled from the shadows around him. “You gotta be quicker than that with an O'Leary. Now hand over the sapphires and your travel passes.”
The man eyed the new shapes. The odds were pretty even. He turned back to Patrick. “The passes weren't part of the deal.”
“Maybe not the part you planned.” Patrick smiled and the men behind him tapped weapons against their palms like the prelude to a knife fight.
“You won't last a week with those passes.”
Patrick laughed. “Then you shouldn't be bent out of shape about giving them over.”
The exchange was made, and Patrick shoved Mike forward. “No hard feelings, Givens. Maybe you'll save your family this way.”
“Eat dirt, O'Leary.”
Patrick's hand went to his chest. “Now that hurts.” But his eyes were cold above his smile. “See you on the news. Probably in a body bag.” Patrick tipped an imaginary hat and whistled as he gripped the passes in his hand.
“Everyone will know what it means to cross an O'Leary.” He grinned savagely and disappeared.
The recording winked out.
“Go,” I whispered to Guard Rock.
We flipped again, our last flip.
Eighteen million people revived, two million to go.
Stavros found us within twenty seconds.
“You are just so determined. How about this one, then?”
He flashed up a second recording.
Mike was staring blankly at a white ceiling. Two men were bending over him—Oler Mussolgranz and a dead-eyed minion.
“His resistance to the mind pills is quite extraordinary. There is no evidence to such skill on his reports.”
Mussolgranz hummed. “Excelsine is well known for hiding rare abilities among a diverse and extraordinary population. Even better to receive such a subject. I do so love experimenting.”