Chapter 17

“Oh, you kidder,” the mysterious woman said. I ended up returning her embrace; not so much out of affection, but because the poor, frail thing might snap in two if she fell. Her arms had no padding to them, like I was holding up a skeleton.

She prodded at my chest and torso as I stood there in shock. “You’ve put on a lot of muscle since the last time I saw you! I guess you really have been too busy in bootcamp to come see me.” Her tone was playful, but there was a tone of reproach in there, too.

“I…” I’d have to choose my words carefully. This clearly wasn’t mistaken identity; she knew my name and what I was up to. I liked to think I had a good eye for faces, but I didn’t know this woman from Eve.

Which meant I was on dangerous ground; she knew the real Soren Marlowe. She knew the real Soren Marlowe, and we were surrounded by dignitaries, members of the press, and we were the center of attention after she’d nearly faceplanted.

Which meant it was time to obfuscate. Buy time. Coax out enough information to spin into believable lies.

“I apologize, my dear,” I said. “You’ve changed a lot since the last time I saw you.”

“Is that a joke about my weight?” She puffed out her cheeks in a pout. “We didn’t all get out last spring!”

Another survivor? It seemed the Horde was slipping! “It can’t have been easy for you.”

Her laugh was more like a hoarse whisper. “That’s an understatement.”

I helped steady her, but I didn’t release her arm right away. I was afraid she’d topple over again. “How about we get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it?”

She shook her head. “The doctors say my stomach can’t handle anything more exciting than water and their meal replacement slop. I’m a ways away from real food.”

I felt my brow furrow. I’d contributed to her sorry state, and I wanted to do something for her. “Should you be up and about, then?”

She waved me off. “I wasn’t about to miss your big night. Well, our big night.” She tried to break my loose grip and take a step back, but simply couldn’t. Instead, she satisfied herself giving me a once over. “If only your mother could see you today. Little Soren Marlowe, being knighted by the King of England himself. She’d never believe it.”

“Well, Mother could be a bit difficult to please,” I said, my actual human mother coming to mind. Aleksandra was a demonkin on another level, having married a demonic official and actually birthed one. If she hadn’t been harsh to begin with, she’d picked up the Horde’s culture quickly.

“Isn’t that the truth,” she said. It seemed the real Soren had the same luck in mothers I did. “You can let me go, Soren. Or is it Magpie, now?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

She seemed to pick up on my dour mood. “Cheer up, little Magpie. I know I look bad, but they say I’m recovering quickly, considering everything. I’m hardly going to break.”

“I’m not convinced.” It seemed like awful malpractice that she’d been allowed to attend in her condition. Why had she been? Our special night? Just what was she to me?

She rasped another laugh. “Stop that, I’ll burst something. Lord, that’s so like you, Soren. Stop doting on me! I swear, I’m fine.”

I reluctantly let her go. She did manage to keep her feet, though an older woman in plain clothes handed her a cane. I figured she was a nurse or doctor, which was a slight relief. She nodded her thanks, though once the woman had turned away, my new acquaintance shot her a withering, petulant glare.

I was no closer to sorting out who this mysterious woman was. She didn’t seem much older than me, but she definitely saw me in a lesser position. She also knew me well enough to have an opinion on my mother. Was she an older sister? A cousin? An old flame?

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Dark Lord, I hoped it wasn’t the last option. I didn’t need more female attention, a sentiment I would have called impossible once upon a time.

“When did you come in?” I asked. “Heck, how did you come in?”

“The how was easy,” she said. “Some devil baronet thought I was cute, so he bought me to be a maid at his new estate in Wales. He doesn’t treat his toys well.”

She sounded so casual about what must have been an awful situation, as if it had happened to someone else. I’m a fan of repressing feelings, but that seemed a bit extreme, even to me.

“What, did he let you out on a day pass?” I asked.

There was another wheeze, forcing her to rest her full weight on the cane. “No, no. Once he decided I was too broken in to escape, he let his guard down. I plugged a bathtub and put myself out to sea. Got the idea from world history class back in Kent; apparently a lot of people floated themselves from Cuba to Florida back in the day.”

My eyes widened. “You went across the Irish Sea in a bathtub? At this time of year?”

“Not the whole thing,” she said. “Patrol boat picked me up, which was good; I couldn’t lift the oar anymore and my seal was failing.”

And I’d helped do it to her. “Well, it’s a miracle you’re here at all.”

“It wasn’t easy, but seeing you again makes it all worthwhile.” She reached out, caressing my face.

There was something intimate in her touch that told me this was no sister, and no cousin worthy of polite society. She was an old flame. This was a complication I absolutely did not need in my life; an unworthy prayer flashed through my mind, wishing she’d drop dead and take her secrets with her.

I shook my head to clear it. Even if that could have happened, I wouldn’t really want it. I had enough guilt on my shoulders.

My ruminations were interrupted when Mr. Maki approached us. The rest of the party was keeping their distance, perhaps recognizing the reunion as a private moment. “You have one in every port, don’t you, Marlowe?”

“He does?” the mystery woman asked, her eyes wide in confusion. “Really? Him?”

“Oh, it isn’t like that,” I said, laughing nervously.

She wheezed her mirth again. “Right, he barely worked up the nerve to ask me out. He’s no lady’s man; it took him years before I finally said yes.”

Mr. Maki’s eyebrow raised. “So you two do know each other.” He bowed deeply to her. “Asahi Maki. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

“Wendy Bailey,” she said. “Can we shake instead? I don’t think I’ll get back up again if I try that one.”

“Don’t trouble yourself on my account,” he said, straightening back up. “I read all about your story in The Guardian this morning. I’m amazed anyone tried it, much less succeeded.”

“It beat the alternative,” Wendy said, shivering. When she didn’t stop, Mr. Maki and I both removed the jackets from our rented suits.

“Let me, Marlowe,” he said. “You’ll need to look presentable for the ceremony.” I nodded, straightening up my clothes as he slung the jacket over her back.

Apparently I wasn’t up to Wendy’s standards; she reached up to adjust my collar. “You’re both such gentlemen. Be careful, I might get used to it.”

“I’ll have to treat you more coldly, then,” I said. “Wouldn’t want you to get a big head.”

She smirked up at me. “Well, maybe we could meet in the middle. I mean, you are my fiancé, after all. You can give me a little bit of an ego.”

My jaw went slack. “Come again?”

Her face fell. “Y-you forgot your promise? How could you?”

“It’s not so much that I forgot; I simply wasn’t expecting to see you on this side of the grave.” Time to crank up the charm; I reached out, wrapping my hands around her skeletal fingers. “It’s such a relief to see you, my dear.”

That seemed to pacify her, which gave me a few precious seconds to think. Something wasn’t adding up. Maggie Edwards had carried on with the real Soren Marlowe back at the Merlin Academy of Magic. If I believed her account, he had been a simpering dunderhead of a boy. Exactly her type: unlucky with the ladies and directionless. The perfect clay to mold into a dependent boytoy. The fact that he was recorded as a bottom rank wizard tended to support that account. If I mentally added thirty pounds of muscle and curves to this girl, she could have been a real beauty. What would she possibly see in him?

Mr. Maki seemed just as skeptical. “Fiancé? He’s never mentioned you.”

I gulped. “W-well… Wendy, my dear, why don’t you tell Mr. Maki the story? You can do it better than me.”

Wendy let out a serene little sigh. “It’s funny, at the time it seemed like such a minor promise. It was never anything formal. All our childhoods, Soren here had the biggest crush on me. It was a little embarrassing, really. I’m a little older than him, and our fathers were friends. Well, when he was about to be shipped off into the Corps, I wanted to give him some encouragement. I told him that if he could make it through school and into the service, I’d give him a chance.” She gave me a quick once over, reaching out to squeeze my forearm. “I hear he was your student over in Japan. You worked some real wonders! I barely recognized him.”

Mr. Maki absorbed the compliment like a sponge. “It’s amazing what a little hard work and discipline can accomplish.”

“Yes, that it is,” I said. “I knew you’d tell the story just right, my dear.” It was more familiar than it had any right to be. Which lead me to two questions:

Who was this demonkin really, and why had Fera fed her our mutual history?