Confessions of the Magpie Wizard Book 3: Dissolution (Chapter 41 & 42) (Patreon)

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Chapter 41

We got the all-clear sometime in the late afternoon. I had tired of playing with my new toy and grabbed a short nap, only to be awoken as a flurry of delayed notifications arrived on my phone all at once.

Most of them were what I would have expected. Yukiko sent a general test message to the group to see if communications had really been blacked out. Maiko said that club time was cancelled, but she would be there if anybody wanted to visit. Kiyo had texted me several times with protestations about her loneliness without me before giving up. Rose sent a report that her brother Albert was alive, though the H.M.S. Edinburgh had nearly been overrun.

“He’s back in the hospital,” she texted, adding a little eyerolling emoji.

“Again? I guess he really can’t stay out of there!” I typed back.

“How did you know about that?” asked Rose.

Blast it, she had confided that to me in my disguise, hadn’t she? “You spend every morning telling me all the details of your family’s goings on. It’s come up.” For all I knew, it really had. I had a tendency to tune her out.

I sent Kiyo the requisite follow-up, telling her that I had missed her too. She surprised me by not responding immediately. I wondered if anything was the matter with her, and then I put two and two together. If you put Kiyo alone in her dorm room with no internet access, she was bound to be glued to her GoSato. I put her in the “to do” pile and inspected the other messages. I hadn’t realized just how much time I spent on SatoChat until I saw a whole day’s worth of texts arrive at the same time.

Two messages stood out, though. One was from Maggie, telling me that she was fine after the battle.

“Wait,” I typed back, “you’re in Sumatra?”

“In a League airport in Taiwan, on my way home,” she replied. “They needed all of the combat-worthy wizards they could get.”

I wasn’t the fastest typist in the world, but my thumbs flew furiously across my phone’s screen. “Why didn’t you tell me? We’re partners in this enterprise, damn it all!”

“Why thank you for your concern, little Magpie,” she said. I could just imagine her detached little smirk.

“Don’t flatter yourself! What if you had died? Would the you-know-what have still gone out?” Maggie had long ago set up an automated program that would reveal that I wasn’t the real Soren Marlowe if she didn’t manually stop it every day. It’s why she hadn’t suffered an unfortunate accident at some point along the way.

“Hm, I suppose that is still there, isn’t it?” She replied with a shrugging picture. “That reminds me, it’s time to do that for the day.”

What in the Dark Lord’s name… She hadn’t done her daily check in? I saw red. Before I knew what I was doing, I had already placed the call.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

“Am I on speakerphone?”

“No, but why-”

“You listen here, you self-important witch!” I jabbed at the air with my finger, imagining her smug face before me. “I’ve put up with enough garbage from you! This constant threat ends today!”

I could hear her jaw drop. “Where do you-”

I cut her off again. “No, it’s my turn to talk, not yours! You’re going to get back here and you’re going to delete whatever you have cooked up to expose me, and you’re going to send me the proof that you did it!”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll go to the Headmaster right this minute and come clean! I’m sure they’d love to know what Holy Brother Ratte looked like, after his stunt this morning!”

I’d said it in the heat of the moment, but the hasty verbal shot hit home. I heard cloth brush her microphone as she dropped her phone and barely caught it.

“You wouldn’t,” she said after a moment’s delay.

I paced through my room, reveling in the shock in her voice. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re so damned careless that you could expose me by accident! Why wait for it to slip your mind? This way, I can see the Wizard Corps coming!”

There was a long silence. I worried she might call my bluff. I smirked as I glanced towards my new disguise wand’s place beneath my pile of “liberated” junk. Hell, it wasn’t nearly as much of a bluff as it had once been. I had a shot at escape, if I were truly desperate.

“I see. Where did this come from?”

“You can’t be surprised, with the way you’ve treated me! I’ve listened to your problems, kept your secrets, and even done your dirty work! I’ve earned some respect, and you’ll start by taking the damn knife away from my throat!”

“I suppose you have proven yourself…”

“Damn straight! Now, what will it be? I’m sure the Headmaster would be willing to pencil me in.”

“That was an oversight,” Maggie said. “One I should have corrected already. You’re right. We are partners, and I should act like it. You’re in private, right?”

“Yes, of course,” I said. “I wouldn’t be shouting about the Brotherhood if I weren’t.”

“Good,” she purred. “I always thought you were a pushover. I like this sudden confident streak.”

“Oh?” She’d teased me a few times, but unless my ears deceived me, that was real desire in her voice. If Kiyo could ignore me for her game, then I could flirt a little. I leaned back on my bed. “How much do you like it?”

“My plane is taking off soon, so I don’t have long. I’ll find another way to express myself. Later.”

I wondered what she meant by that. I didn’t have long to wait until my phone buzzed again. Maggie had dipped into a bathroom to snap a quick picture.

What a picture it was! She wore a black Wizard Corps field uniform with the blue trim of a support wizard. More accurately, she wore most of it. The front of her jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a frilly brassiere. I’m sure it wasn’t approved combat attire. Well, hang the Wizard Corps, it met my standards! Her lip was curled back in a come-hither grin.  I’d caught glimpses of her before, but apparently my imagination was deficient. Maggie Edwards was a redheaded work of art, like a fine vase. Her porcelain-white skin was marred only by the scar All Heal had left on her stomach.

The text beneath gave me pause. “Who needs your little shadow?”

Well, that spoiled the forbidden joy of ogling a teacher. She just had to make me think of Kiyo, didn’t she? I told myself a devil didn’t care about fidelity, but I found myself thinking of Ms. Jones too much to enjoy myself. I sent Kiyo a message, but she didn’t reply again. I found that disturbing, but there was nothing to be done about it. I couldn’t exactly march into the girls’ living area to check in person. My stomach growled, and I decided I could to go do something about that.

I did get the confirmation message from Maggie later that night, with a screenshot that the folder “Magpie” had been deleted. That was one less worry on my plate, which was fortunate, since by the time her follow up message arrived, the plate was rather full again.

Chapter 42

The cafeteria always felt like a letdown compared to the rest of the school. Most of the Nagoya Tower’s rooms were full of marvelous technology and overpriced furnishings. Then you reached the student cafeteria, where the food tasted like it had come off a conveyor belt and the decorations were spartan. I couldn’t confirm it until later, but I suspected the staff dined in much better surroundings. I avoided it as much as I could, but I hadn’t found Kiyo in the food court upstairs, and she still wouldn’t respond to my calls.

Not that I was worried, mind you. A devil doesn’t…

Oh, to Hell with the pretense. I was concerned about her. I hadn’t seen her during the presentation that morning, or on the elevator ride up. I’d been too distracted by my newly discovered toy to notice at the time. Somebody that clingy suddenly de-clinging made me a tad paranoid.

She was probably just buried deep in a game, I told myself. She wasn’t sobbing in a corner somewhere or, worse, sneaking around under the cover of her magic. I’d confirmed the latter with my Mimic a few times on my way down. It was a bit challenging to make out the individual points of light when I focused with so many students around, but I was confident I’d have noticed her pumping magic into her Death of Light affinity.

I did see Hiro and Yukiko, sitting across from each other on one of the long cafeteria tables. Yukiko read aloud from a textbook. When Hiro replied, she would use her gravity magic to lift bites of a dessert into his mouth. He had a hand over his eyes to prevent cheating. The sponge cake seemed to be more sponge than cake, but that smile wasn’t on account of the taste. The scene before me was so adorable that I wanted to vomit.

Naturally, I needed to spoil it. I snuck up behind Yukiko without her noticing.

“Next question,” she said. “How many fingers do goblins have?”

“Four! C’mon, Yukiko, give me a tricky one."

“Fine, that one doesn’t count. What species of mammoth did the Grim Horde bring with them from the other world? Is it the wooly or imperial mammoth?”

He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “That’s a trick question. They look like extinct wooly mammoths, but are a different kind that never existed on Earth, the infernal mammoth.”

“Correct! That makes nine points.” She raised a glowing finger and a piece of the questionable cake floated gently towards Hiro’s mouth.

“What does he get when he hits ten?” I asked.

Yukiko let out a surprised yelp, and the yellow missile zoomed right into Hiro’s throat. His eyes flew open and he braced himself against the table.

“Hiro!” Yukiko ignored me and raced to his side, but he put up his hand to reassure her.

After a lot of straining and a sip of water, he managed to swallow the cake. “M-Magpie? Where did you come from?”

“England, mostly,” I said.

“That was an awful trick!” Yukiko stalked over, her hands on her hips. “You always go too far.”

It was my turn to hold up my hands. “I thought I’d make you drop it, or hit him in the face. Is it my fault your aim is too perfect?”

“Page thirteen of the student handbook says to not interrupt a wizard while casting!”

I held up my finger. “Page sixteen restricts the use of magic outside of class. Or was it seventeen? I can never remember.”

“Twenty-three,” she replied without pausing. “I assure you that my use of Gravity Shift is completely within the rules. Don’t quote the manual at me if you aren’t going to quote it properly.”

“I concede,” I said, bowing theatrically to Hiro. “Let’s leave it up to the injured party. Hiro?”

“No harm, no foul,” said Hiro.

Yukiko sighed before sitting down. “You’re too forgiving sometimes.”

“I suppose it’s why he puts up with us,” I said, feeling a bit wistful. Back home, that could have led to a duel.

“Are you kidding? Think of how boring my life would be without you all. Especially you, Yukikins.” The translation must have been off again. I couldn’t see anybody calling Yukiko a pet name.

She blushed, though. Maybe the translation fabricata was right after all? “Can we help you, Magpie?”

“I don’t suppose either of you have seen Kiyo?”

Yukiko nodded. “She’s buried in some role-playing game.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wait, how come you know that and I don’t?”

“I’ve started making wellness checks if I don’t hear from her,” said Yukiko. “She opened the door for me this time.”

“Wellness checks?”

She shrugged. “The headmaster asked me to add that to my daily routine, after the way you two carried on.”

“Probably a wise move,” I conceded. On the one hand, that was a relief. If Maggie or Mrs. Perera were to call me into action, I wouldn’t have to evade Kiyo. Then again, it annoyed me that she wouldn’t answer her damn phone for me. “It must be one heck of a game.”

“Speaking of wellness checks,” said Yukiko. “Would you mind going to your club room to have dinner?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“Somebody needs to check on her.”

“Check on who?” I asked.

“Mariko said she was up there,” said Hiro. “She kinda invited us all, but in a passive aggressive way. Something’s wrong with her. It’s pretty obvious. She wouldn’t tell us before, though.”

“And you think that I’ll do better because…”

“Because for a womanizer with a penchant for stupid pranks, you’re surprisingly approachable,” replied Yukiko. “You’re a good listener.”

“I can’t find fault with anything you said, technically,” I said.

“Yukiko! We talked about choosing your words,” chided Hiro.

“What? He said himself it was right.” She turned back to face me. “Please, Soren? I’ll cover both of your meals.”

“Oh, very well.” I’d have been more eager, normally. I enjoy a certain amount of prying. However, I already knew the source of Mariko’s funk. It felt like reading the last page of a mystery novel first. I knew that if she felt like discussing her woes, I would be talking about Paul. Oh, well. I didn’t see a way out.

Soon enough, I was outside the sewing club’s room. My hands were full of our bagged dinners, but the door was open a crack. It was right around our normal club time, and the nearly deserted room seemed much larger without all of us in it.

Mariko sat at the round table in the center of the room, working on something intently. I realized she was drawing on a sheet of paper, her eyes occasionally darting over to something on her phone. The tip of her tongue was stuck out of her mouth, something she always did when she was focused. The woman had once had dreams of drawing manga before the Wizard Corps drafted her. I saw her picking up the hobby again as a good sign. She still looked bedraggled, but it meant she wasn’t wallowing after her blowup with Paul.

At least, that’s what I thought at first. Then I noticed that her right hand trembled as she drew. I had seen her art before. Before I’d met her, she had wasted her efforts on a comic about Hiro romancing her. Her craft elevated her work about the subject matter, which made it all the more tragic that she said she didn’t draw anymore. It was a poor capstone to her career.

I frowned as I studied the pencil sketch that blighted the sheet. The image on the phone was the school’s witchy cat mascot. It was a simple image, designed to adorn school memorabilia and letterheads with a minimum of ink. There wasn’t a straight line or a smooth curve on Mariko’s page. I could have done it better, and I’d never so much as touched a paintbrush in my life.

I’m not sure how long I stood there studying her horrid draftsmanship. Something in Mariko snapped, and she balled up the paper and threw it right at me. It bounced off my face harmlessly.

“Come now, my dear, it wasn’t that awful.” I set aside the bagged dinners.

Her eyes widened as she finally noticed me. She shrieked in surprise and fell out of her chair.

I chuckled as I went over to help. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t here to rob you!” She took my hand, and I couldn’t help but notice she trembled like a startled rabbit. “You need to work on your situational awareness.”

“Y-you need to work on knocking, Soren,” she retorted. “You aren’t a Magpie, you’re more like a sneaky little mouse!”

“If I didn’t sneak around, I wouldn’t see so many interesting things,” I replied, grabbing the abandoned art piece. “I’m no art expert, but you don’t strike me as an impressionist.”

Mariko’s eyes widened, but she took a controlling breath and brought her clenched hands in front of her. “I felt like trying something new.”

“You seemed more enraged than experimental,” I replied. “It isn’t the first time I’ve seen you struggling with your art.”

“Experiments usually fail,” she said, avoiding my gaze. Her eyes settled on the to-go bags. “That smells… well, not good, but passable. Is it from the cafeteria?”

“Good guess,” I said. “It’s Yukiko’s treat.”

“How kind of her,” she said. “Why isn’t she here herself?”

“She was on a date with Hiro.” I decided it was best not to admit that I was there for a bit of reconnaissance.

“I see,” she said, her frown deepening. “I’m grateful that somebody dropped by. I’ll put some tea on for us. You can take a seat.”

I followed her instructions as she fiddled with an electric kettle in the corner. I scanned the room, and noticed she had packed cardboard boxes full of the club’s yarn and cloth. “Doing a spot of reorganizing?”

“More like reprioritizing. I think the sewing club’s time has passed.”

“That’s a little abrupt,” I said. “When were you going to tell us members?”

Her face drooped. “Paulkins… I mean, Mr. Wilson was very firm about his resignation, and Hiro would rather be with Yukiko. I don’t see the point in it.”

“You once told me that your club wasn’t only a place to hook up,” I countered.

She shook her head. “That isn’t it. We all had our own problems. When the old game club folded, I wanted this to be where we could help each other. Hiro was getting over Yukiko leaving us. I thought I could be there for him, but he never saw me that way.” I saw the beginnings of tears forming at the edges of her eyes. “Rose told me about the trick you and the headmaster figured out. It sounds like she’s getting control of her affinity, finally. Kiyo has you, and Yukiko has Hiro. Even Paul says he’s over his injury. You all don’t need me anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come now! Aren’t you being a little overdramatic? Breakups hurt, but they’re a fact of life.”

“That isn’t…” The teapot let out a high-pitched scream, giving her an out. “The water’s done. Do you want any sugar in yours?” In her haste, she sloshed some of the boiling water on the counter, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Be careful, Mariko. We don’t want another incident.”

“Another incident?” She cocked her head to the side.

“You know, like the lesson about magical resonance. That must have hurt, though you seem to be okay now.”

She dropped a bag into each cup and added a spoonful of sugar I hadn’t asked for. “Oh, that? Don’t worry yourself.” She plastered a thin grin on her face as she brought the cups and the teakettle over on a tray.

“Choose a story and stick to it!” Mariko gasped and stopped short of the round table. “You’re offended that nobody showed up to keep you company while you unilaterally shut down the club, but we aren’t allowed to worry about you. What, pray tell, are we supposed to do?”

Mariko’s forced cheer evaporated, and her face contorted into a grimace. “Y-you can have a nice cup of tea, and we can talk about something else.” The tray before her shook, and water flowed down the sides of the teacups. “Anything else. Please. How is your pen pal in Australia?’

“Who the devil told you about Harriet?” My pulse quickened. Who had seen the letters from Fera? Kiyo had. Who else had she told? I wanted as few people aware of them as I could manage!

Mariko flinched at my outburst, and the teacups shattered as they hit the table. A wave of brown, boiling water flowed across the table, and I barely hopped away before it splashed my lap.

“No, no, no!” She bent over to clean up her mess. The metal teakettle was still intact, but in her haste, she grabbed the body instead of the handle. She cried out and dropped it again, spattering the last of its contents all down her front. She gripped her right hand close to her chest and fell to her knees, hissing in apparent agony.

I was at her side in a heartbeat. I tried to grab her wrist so I could inspect the burn. My feeble grasp of human healing magic went that far, at least. “Let me see that hand! Come on, woman, stop fighting me!”

She shook her head, straining against my grip. “No, please! I’ll heal it myself, just let me go!”

“Stop being ridiculous!” With a final pull, I won the wrestling match. Her right hand trembled so badly that I couldn’t inspect her properly. All I could tell was that her normally pale hand shouldn’t have been quite so red. Runes danced around my fingers as I prepared a basic first aid spell.

They faded as I lost my focus. My hand was locked around her forearm, and something felt off. Even through the black fabric of her uniform, the flesh underneath wasn’t as smooth as it ought to have been.

“How did you burn yourself there?” Mariko tried to pull away, but I was too strong for her. Why wouldn’t she let me have a look? That ought to have given me pause, but I had seen enough injuries on campaign to know that people in shock don’t behave rationally, and Mariko had hardly been at her best that day. At least Mariko was easier to control than an enraged orc. “Stop that, I’m trying to help!”

“Please,” she pleaded. She had stopped resisting, but her dark eyes looked deep into mine. “You can go. I’ll be fine. I w-won’t complain anymore, and I won’t bother anyone, just please, I don’t want anybody to see.”

Too late. I had already pulled down her sleeve. I couldn’t help but let out a gasp. All down her arm, starting above the wrist, Mariko’s flesh was covered in ridges of dark red and purple scar tissue. It reminded me of a topographical map. Bits of her natural, healthy flesh formed white valleys between the angry mountain ranges.

The last of her fight faded away. She refused to look me in the eye. Her hand still trembled, which I now knew to be its natural state. Thinking back, I had never felt her hand be truly still. I had always ascribed her shakes to shivering or nervousness.

“Mariko… I had no idea.”

“I know you didn’t,” she sobbed. “That was the point.”

I guided her over to Kiyo’s normal seat, an oversized beanbag chair, so she didn’t have to squat while I went to work. I set about healing the burns on Mariko’s hand. Those I could deal with. The old scars that ran down to her elbow were beyond anybody’s ability to heal.

“Please don’t try to heal m-my arm,” she said, her voice quavering. “It only makes it burn again.”

“I know better,” I said. “Tell me, have you ever fought the Horde?”

“No, of course not.”

“If you haven’t, then how did you possibly get Ruhspont cast on you?”

*******************

Next Chapter: Confessions of the Magpie Wizard Book 3: Dissolution (Chapter 43 & 44) | D. B. Fassbinder on Patreon

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