Confessions of the Magpie Wizard Book 3: Dissolution (Chapters 9 & 10) (Patreon)

  Art by https://twitter.com/onibaku1_5?s=20 

Chapter 9

Nagoya, Japan

Tuesday, July 18th, 2050

It was a bit past midnight before I decided it was safe to get up. It had been hard to fake sleeping for an hour with a snoring Kiyo nestled up against me, but I had to be sure she was out cold. Experience told me she was a deep sleeper once she was down, but I didn’t dare risk being discovered. After all, she thought I was a demonkin, not an actual devil. Opening the letter from back home could have exposed me in an instant. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, I worked my way out of bed, leaving one of my pillows in my place as a decoy. She let out a light moan but didn’t stir otherwise. 

I would periodically get a letter from a Harriet Oswald of Western Australia, usually once or twice a week. I wasn’t sure how Fera got a letter into the Anti-Demonic League’s postal service in the first place, or why she had chosen Australia as its point of origin. My best guess was she had some sort of magical, long range communication with a demonkin there, who would then pass along the enchanted letters to me. I had asked in one of my missives for one of those fabricata for my own use. She was quite clear that not only did she have no idea what I was talking about, but if such a wondrous machine were to exist, she was sure I’d find a way to lose it or be found out.

At least we hadn’t drifted further apart in my absence. She always had an awfully low opinion of me. 

I’d picked up the newest Harriet Oswald missive from my mailbox that afternoon and hidden it immediately. Merely opening it with Kiyo in the room was a major risk, after her loose lips in the gym before. She had spent the evening in my room, after using her invisibility to sneak in. I had almost been tempted to kick her out on some pretense, but then she’d had to go and wear a fetching nightgown instead of her usual flannel pajamas. Irresponsible? Certainly, but I’m hardly made of stone. 

I considered casting a demonic sleep spell on Kiyo, but remembering that my Bloody Lance had put Haru in a monthlong coma, I decided against it. I couldn’t know what effect my native magic would have on these humans. I’d gotten lucky using an electric spell on Rose once, and I wasn’t going to take a chance with Kiyo. So, I borrowed Mr. Maki’s Dome of Silence, casting it over the bed. Once again, these humans were giving me so many lovely tools to use against them. 

I opened the letter which, on the surface, was the sort of boring drivel you’d expect to see from a pen pal. It was a cleverly disguised fabricata, though, with the runes hidden underneath a golden trim along the edges of the paper. I willed magic through it, revealing the real letter in a delicate High Demonic script. 

To the former Captain Malthus, 

It galled me how she had to begin every letter that way. She didn’t need to rub my demotion in my face.

 You reported some time ago that you had infiltrated a human extremist group. You have mentioned frequent contact with their local leader, but we have seen no signs of any progress. Our understanding is that the Holy Brotherhood has failed in all of their operations of late and are on the run, making us wonder why you bother. Daddy and the rest of the court are questioning what steps you have taken to use these contacts for the glory of the Grim Horde and our beloved Dark Lord, May He Live and Reign Forever. 

Blast it all. That was a fair question without an easy answer. Ah, well. It wouldn’t be the first time I had to fudge a report to high command. 

You asked in the last letter about your father, the honorable Grand Vizier Malthus the Elder, Right Hand of our Dark Lord, May He Serve with Loyalty. Truth be told, I am not in Pandemonium at the moment, so I have not had an opportunity to see him. I asked Daddy about it, and he said that he seemed melancholy, but not any more than usual. So no, you needn’t flatter yourself that your circumstances have distressed him. 

Well, that I knew was untrue. We had barely seen each other since Mother’s death, and he had been distraught sending me off on my mission. When I was home and had my rank and influence again, I’d have to remind Fera that I was her equal and not some subordinate. I was merely down on my luck. 

Report back as soon as possible about your progress, and it had better be good. 

Sincerely, 

Fera, Daughter of Girdan the Fair

I shredded Fera’s message to bits, then burnt the bits and flushed them down my toilet. I couldn’t risk anything with a demonic letter turning up. 

The letter had come with a blank sheet with a similar hidden fabricata for my reply. My report was short on detail, but flowery in its language. I assured them that the alliance with the Holy Brotherhood was a necessary part of my cover, even if they had fallen on hard times. I left out the blackmail material that Maggie had on me, and instead focused on their past performance and the fact that they had numerous recruits to pull from, where I was only one devil. I promised that we would make our moves soon enough, and that the glory of our Dark Lord, May He Bask in Infamy Always, would not be served if we moved too quickly and failed in the attempt. Leaving a stronger Holy Brotherhood in my wake could only help destabilize the human realms. I told her how the human lands had nobody to compare with her grace and beauty, and there was nobody I would rather be with. I thanked Fera for her patience and told her I would count the moments until we met again. 

A whispered spell in High Demonic vaporized the letter, and its contents would be copied onto a paired sheet back in Europe. 

I rolled my wheeled chair over to my bed. A snap of the fingers dispelled the silencing spell, and I watched Kiyo placidly breathing in and out for a moment. She wasn’t a large woman by any means, but she always seemed smaller and more fragile when she slept. She stirred a protective instinct in me that was totally unworthy of a devil. Yet, there it was, and I knew it had a power over me that I didn’t want to break. Not just yet.

After all, if Fera could lie to me, I could lie to her. I did look forward to seeing her again, but I wasn’t done playing Soren Marlowe just yet. I had joined with Maggie in a moment of weakness, when I was convinced that Kiyo was about to rat me out. By the time I knew better, I realized I had needlessly put an expiration date on my cover. Not that I ever had intended to stay forever, of course. However, I figured I could delay for a while longer. There was no reason my attack with Maggie couldn’t be a Christmas surprise, or maybe even a grand April Fool’s prank. 

 Or, so I thought. 

Chapter 10

Nagoya, Japan

Tuesday, July 18th, 2050

It’s funny the ruts you can fall into. For more than a month, a decent chunk of my social life had revolved around knitting, of all things. The Nagoya Academy had a rule that students were required to belong to a club that in some way helped them athletically or strengthened some skill related to the magic arts. When I had first arrived, Hiro and some of the girls had been involved in Tactical Innovation Club, which was just a grab bag of vaguely game related activities. That had dissolved following some, shall we say, interpersonal friction, and Mr. Maki and Ms. Edwards had demanded that any future clubs we might start be more on point. Knitting and needlepoint encouraged dexterity, and proper finger alignment was necessary for spellcasting. 

The club room was a satellite of the large school library, just like all of the other premade club rooms. Some were designed for a specific function, such as baking or music production, but our room was more generic. There was a circular table at the center of the cozy room, large enough for all the members to sit around, though Kiyo always camped out in an enormous beanbag chair near a TV if she could. 

The aged rocking chair in the other corner was occupied as well. The napping Neci Perera was our club advisor and the teacher of the Races of the Horde class. Frankly, her knowledge of my people was damn spotty. We had no interactions in those days outside of the battlefield, after all, so everything she knew was guesswork based on scraps. Still, it made her lectures amusing, like listening to a conspiracy theorist on the radio spin tales of secret alien elites running the government.

I didn’t see the reason to tell her that her research into the Horde was worthless, though. She had enough misery in her life. The gnarled Brazilian woman had been old when we invaded in 2030 and she suddenly developed the ability to adjust the flow of time, and the intervening twenty years hadn’t been kind to her as we forced her from her homeland into exile. 

I let her keep dozing. I had arrived first, and I decided to get started on my project. There was a wall of convenient cubbyholes that Mariko had been kind enough to label. She had messier handwriting than I would have expected from an aspiring manga artist, but I could still make out Soren.

“Hey, Magpie!” Hiro gave me a friendly clap on the back as he entered. 

The annoying gesture had long since become familiar. It was still irritating, but within allowable tolerances. “Afternoon, Takehara. What has you in such a good mood?”

“You ever just had everything click into place all at once?” He slumped into his chair with his own project, a tea cozy. 

“Can’t say I have,” I replied. “I must say, you’ve been almost disgustingly happy lately.”

By Our Father Below, I wanted to smack the self-satisfied smile from the shorter man’s face. “Well, it’s all thanks to you, man. You nudged Yukiko to come back to us, and you helped me get my affinity under control.”

I waved off his praise. It was time for some false modesty. “It always seems easier to sort out another man’s problems than your own. I was glad to give you what little help I could provide.”

He cocked his head at me. “Oh? Is something the matter? I mean, if there’s anything I can do, I owe you a lot.”

“I don’t think so.” It had been a mistake to even mention my issues. “It’s not exactly a problem to be solved. Just the acceptance of certain realities. It relates to my home.” Which was true enough, though he took it differently.

His sympathetic wince told me playing the England card still worked. “Sounds rough. You know that if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you for the offer.” I reached for a canned juice I’d been saving for club time. I’ll give humanity this, their vending machines seemed like magic to me.

“Sure, man. Anything for my best friend.”

I nearly choked on my drink. “Come again?”

“Well, I mean, besides Yukiko. But that’s different. You’ve helped us all out a lot, and you’re always there to help us solve our problems.” He gave me a thumbs up. I’d also stopped being offended by the gesture; back home, it meant to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. “It’s the least we can do.”

“It seems to me you’re forgetting I caused an awful lot of those problems,” I countered.

His smile broke. “Why do you have to do that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can never just take a compliment,” he said. “We’ve all forgiven you for that mess with Yukiko. I think you need to forgive yourself, if it still bothers you.”

“Trust me, Hiro, it isn’t a guilty conscience. This is club time, not psychoanalysis time.”

“Sure, Magpie.” His face brightened again and he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “I was thinking we should go do something together sometime. It’s great hanging with our girlfriends, but I can’t think of the last time I had some guy time.”

“Yes, I suppose you did have the harem before I arrived.”

“Shh, don’t use the H-word. We were just friends with… well, not benefits. It was complicated.”

I gave him a theatrical bow. “Aye, Sultan Takehara, as you will. I am only grateful you were not jealous when I wooed one of your concubines away.”

He chuckled at that. “What do you say to Friday night? I have a couple of ideas for how to make it an exciting night.”

“You know what, I’m morbidly curious what you’d consider exciting. Count me in.”

“Great!” He either didn’t notice the slight, or chose to let it slide. Whatever it was, he was good at appearing genuine. He wasn’t much to look at back then, but he did show a few seeds of his future greatness. I like to think that putting up with my verbal jousting helped him deal with difficult politicians when he went on to be the President of the Anti-Demonic League. Even if it didn’t, I always had a good time.

The door opened behind us. “Paul, please, Hiro and Soren are already here. You’ll embarrass me.”

I turned, and Paul’s hand was firmly around Mariko’s waist as they strode in. Hiro’s normal smile fell a bit. My eyes met Paul’s and I arched an eyebrow. He reluctantly let go, and without missing a beat, he walked over and thumped me on the back. Did they teach that in human elementary schools or something? Paul’s was less controlled than Hiro’s, and it left a dull ache behind.  

“Hey Mags, Hiro. What’s up?’

“Oh, Hiro just invited me out on a date. I accepted, of course.” I decided a little teasing humor would drop the tension in the room. 

“It isn’t a date, you goof,” he said. “It’s guy’s night.”

“Oh, Paul, you should go with them,” said Mariko as she smoothed out her uniform. “You were just telling me you missed your old football club and hanging with your, ah, ‘homies’ there.” Paul just about bust a gut laughing. “Did I say something wrong?”

Paul wiped a tear from his eye. “Baby, I speak Japanese, so I don’t hear you translated. It’s just funny hearing you shove that word in. It’s adorable.”

She blushed and looked away. “W-well, as long as you’re laughing with me.”

“Always, Mariko. Oh, you mind getting me that sweater I’m making you?” He took a seat on the other side of me, and pulled another right next to him. 

“Of course, Paulkins.” I would occasionally get weird bits from the school’s translation spell like that. I believe it was her throwing on an affectionate Japanese honorific onto his name. The poor magical translation fabricata spread around the school already had enough trouble keeping up with hundreds of staff and students talking in a veritable Tower of Babel’s worth of languages across the campus and the surrounding grounds. I could forgive them for not always translating pillow talk naturally. 

“You know, if you’re going to talk that loud when an old woman is trying to sleep, you could at least offer to get me some coffee,” grumbled Mrs. Perera. 

“I’m very sorry, ma’am.” Hiro shot to his feet and gave a respectful bow. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough that I don’t miss the dating scene,” she said. “Mr. Perera’s boring, but he says what he wants to say plainly. Listening to you all dance around things is exhausting.” She opened one eye and focused it on Hiro. “Where’s that coffee, Takehara?”

“Oh, r-right, sorry, ma’am.” He darted over to hot water dispenser in the corner of the room and threw in a packet of dehydrated coffee. 

I saw Mrs. Perera’s gaze follow Hiro’s ass, and she looked me right in the eye without shame. She even winked at me, the saucy old biddy. 

I didn’t comment, of course. Hell, if that’s what old age was going to be like, I couldn’t wait to get there. 

It was a mostly quiet meeting besides that. The only other excitement was Kiyo just about shoving Hiro out of his chair when she realized she didn’t have a spot next to me. 

“I have eternal, dibs, man,” she said, wrapped around my arm. 

“Right, right,” he said with a grin. 

Once the appointed time was done, Mrs. Perera called me over. Kiyo hadn’t really left my side since marking her territory, so she was my little shadow. “Not you, Jones. This is private business.”

“If you tell Magpie about it, I’ll hear about it anyway.”

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” Mrs. Perera replied dangerously. “Now scoot!”

Kiyo glared death back at the teacher, but she nodded. Eventually. The door slammed hard enough that I knew I hadn’t heard the last of it.

“Well, if you didn’t want her to pry before, you just guaranteed it,” I grumbled. 

“If you’re going to be a Holy Brother, you need to learn to lie better,” she replied as she hopped off her rocking chair . “Think of it as a practice test.”

I loomed over her, nearly a foot and a half of extra height letting me tower over the stooped woman. “Don’t tell me you brought me over just for that!”

If she was impressed, she gave no sign of it. She closed her eyes for a moment and she vanished. Before I could react, I felt a hand on my right buttock. There was a brief squeeze from a gnarled hand, and she was right back in front of me. 

“Let’s try that again, but with more respect,” she said, leaning on her cane for support. “Nobody talks to me like that. I don’t care you tight your butt is.”

I unconsciously gulped, both out of fear and a vague sense of violation. “What I meant to say is that of course I’m glad to speak with you at any time, ma’am.”

“That’s more like it. Clear your schedule Thursday afternoon after class. We’re meeting up.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is ‘we’ who I think it is?”

“Absolutely. Maggie wants to keep you in the dark, but I think you’re ready. There’s going to be a little ceremony. Wear something nice.” 

“I hope my school uniform will suffice,” I replied. “The former members of your little club ruined my best civilian clothes.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “That’s the benefit of being underground. The dress code is casual. Just make sure I get a show.” 

“Would Mr. Perera approve? You seem awfully interested in the students.”

“That’s the least of what I don’t tell Mr. Perera. Speaking of that, think of something good to tell your girlfriend.”

Kiyo didn’t give me much time, as she practically ambushed me as soon as I walked into the main library. “Well? What was that about?”

Thankfully, I’d already developed a plan. “Are you sure you want to hear? It really is private.”

“Yes!” Kiyo’s eyes had a suspicious glint to them. “Especially when she told me I couldn’t hear.”

“It’s her fiftieth anniversary with Mr. Perera, and she was wondering what sort of lingerie he’d like. I told her I couldn’t imagine the mind of a seventy-year-old man very well, but something as lacy and…”

Kiyo was looking a bit green as she shoved a hand over my mouth. “Nope, never mind, stopping now. She’d ask a student about that? The teachers around here are gross.”

“Believe me, you don’t know the half of it.”

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