Chapter 56

Belfast, North Ireland

Monday, March 6th, 2051

The next few days proved to be less onerous, since we could get up to move for a change. Monday was a particularly nice assignment, as we took a walking patrol of the city proper. We weren’t actually on the lookout for anything in particular; the Corps and the League simply liked to let the civilians see their tax dollars at work.

We weren’t working terribly hard, to tell the truth. We were dropped in one of the more touristy sections of Belfast.

After an hour into it, Fera made a point of tucking her elbow in mine. “Kiyo, Gabby, would you terribly mind splitting up? I need to have a chat with Kasasagi.”

“Do you, now?” I asked. “I don’t think we have permission for that.”

Fera rolled her eyes. “Listen to him. He used to be so dangerous! Now he sounds like a worry wart.”

“I don’t need to be around for whatever you two want to do alone,” said Gabriella. “You two have been bickering all week, and I’m tired of things being awkward. Go figure it out.”

Fera’s response was to give a shallow bow and let out a little giggle. “As long as you understand.”

Kiyo frowned. “Be careful.”

“No worries,” I said. “Go, enjoy some sun while it lasts.”

Kiyo shook her head. “You know why I’m worried.”

“Oh, please,” said Gabriella. “This is a milk run. What are they possibly going to run into?”

It seemed that Ms. Hernandez was overly fond of tempting fate. Then again, how could she know?

We came across a quaint old cobblestone road in a section of Belfast that looked suspiciously new. The buildings looked like they were trying for an old-world ambiance, and they very nearly faked it. The narrow road was lined with stalls selling food and wares from disparate lands. The shopkeepers seemed to be just as diverse, and I wondered how many had wandered from their refugee tenements to earn a few coins.

I found myself stopping and overpaying for a meat skewer I had no use for, as I remembered who had put them there.

“Oh, sir, that’s too much!” said the rotund woman running the stall.

“I’m afraid I don’t have change,” I said, shooting her a wink.

“Thank you, Magpie Wizard!” she called after me, which made me feel worse.

“Nothing for me?” asked Fera.

“You’ve got to watch the figure on your rental,” I snarled, resentment building in my heart. I found Mariko’s touch was good for settling my moments of guilt, and I couldn’t even enjoy that anymore.

Despite those recriminations, the street was a decent spot to have it out, since the dull roar of the crowd would disguise our words. People glanced our way, but they seemed eager to give wizards a wide berth.

Once we were a good distance down the street, I disengaged from Fera’s arm. “Alright, what do you want?”

“You’re so cold, Kasasagi!” she said, her Mariko-esque pout only irritating me more.

“I can’t imagine why. Out with it.”

“Do you remember that night before you were arrested? We walked through a street market just like this one.”

“Not too well,” I admitted.

She snickered to herself. “I’m not surprised! You were pounding them away.”

“It’s called celebrating,” I said. “I’d just come back from England and a few hundred close calls! I was rather eager to put that out of mind. Something you wouldn’t understand.”

She rolled her eyes. “You frontline soldiers never respect what we spies have to put up with. Do you know how hard it was to keep months of invasion plans under wraps? One of Daddy’s rivals in the court nearly got word to the humans that we were coming for them!”

“Oh, is that where you two got the idea to sabotage that invasion of Sumatra?”

“Turnabout is fair play,” she said. “Still, you seem calmer these days.”

“Which is amazing, considering what you’ve put me through,” I snapped.

She smirked my way. “Then it’s good you have me to liven things up. Do you remember when you stole that broach from that street vendor?”

“Faintly,” I said. A few extra denarii had gotten us out of trouble. “I hope you ended up appreciating that gift. It was rather pricey.”

“Never wore it once,” she said, enjoying my irritation. “Still, what was going through your head?”

“Besides too much brandy? I can’t rightly say. It just seemed so important in that moment…”

“That’s what I mean,” she said. “I haven’t seen you steal anything the whole time I’ve been here! You used to be a right little kleptomaniac.”

“You haven’t seen my drawer,” I said, feeling defensive. “I still nick things here or there.”

She scoffed at that. “I talk to people besides you, you know. That Rafal boy says you keep bits of paper and lint around for some reason, maybe a few cheap pens, but nothing anybody would miss.”

I felt my cheeks burn, as if she’d outed some shameful secret. “What of it?”

“Kasasagi,” she said, resuming our walk, “the reason we’re in this mess is that you couldn’t keep your sticky fingers away from Daddy’s prized emblem! Hell, the whole time you stayed with us, how many lashings did you get for walking off with some dignitary’s property?”

The scars on my back ached a moment. “More than I care to count. Is there a point you’re building to?”

She stopped suddenly. “What the Hell happened to you?”

I shrugged. “When in Rome, do as the Romans do. My normal antics kept getting me in trouble, so I adapted.”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that. Are you actually… happy here? With them?”

“There are perks,” I said, enjoying how my evasive maneuvers bothered her.

Fera glared daggers up at me. This was less effective than she intended with her borrowed face. “The damnable thing is, if you’d just been able to behave before, none of this would have happened!”

“Most likely not,” I said. “But I really haven’t changed that much, deep down.”

“Who cares about deep down?” she demanded. “If you go home showing that much weakness, they’ll smell it on you! Hell, I just watched you give charity to that old woman.” She said the c-word like it was distasteful.

“Nonsense,” I said. “I simply didn’t have any small change.”

She tapped her temple. “I know whose fault this is. This one is actually proud of you. Thinks it’s gallant or some such horse shit. She’s a bad influence.”

My dismissive good humor evaporated in an instant. “You know what will happen if you harm a hair on her head.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve been quite clear about what you’ll try,” she said. “Speaking of which… you must think you’re cute.”

I flashed her a winning grin. “I don’t think I’m too bad looking.”

She waved me off. “Not that, you vain jerk. I mean you reaching out to the Divine Blade, that blonde Icelandic bimbo, and your old teacher.”

My heart stopped in an instant. “What?”

“Did I miss anybody?” she asked, her voice surprisingly sweet. “All of your actions on that PC are recorded by the League, and it was easy enough to get one of my agents to check out your online history.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, realizing what the coded messages Kiyo had reported had been about. “I’ve simply been helping Mr. Lahlou out with a spellcrafting project.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” she said, giving me a half-lidded smirk. “What’s keeping Mariko alive right now is that you haven’t been in touch with them since.”

True enough; I didn’t have another computer pass until that night. I’d hoped that a day’s notice would be enough. It seemed there would be no notice at all.

“I can see the gears turning in your mind,” she said. “That’s the thing with you, isn’t it? You don’t know when to give up.”

“It’s served me well so far,” I said.

“It won’t this time,” she said. “For Our Father’s sake, Soren! You’d think I was doing something awful to you. I’m simply setting you free to be who you were meant to be.”

“Under your thumb,” I said. “That’s no life.”

She stopped, her face turning red. “Y-you might be surprised. As absolutely infuriating as you are, this defiant streak is… interesting.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Interesting how?”

“Well, it might turn it from a political marriage to something more…” Her face burned harder and she covered her face. “Curse this body! I’m not some blushing virgin, damnit! Hell, neither is she at this point! Why can’t I get it out?”

I bent down to her level. “I know that my animal magnetism is simply overwhelming, but let me make something clear to you. You’ve spoiled whatever shreds of nostalgia I held for you. Even if I end up back in Pandemonium, I won’t be yours in any way that matters.”

Mariko’s brown eyes widened, before a smug grin split Fera’s face. “I like a challenge.”

“Oh, by the Enemy’s bones!” I snapped. “You, Gabriella, Kiyo, you all want me as soon as you can’t have me! I swear, you’re all like spoiled children who don’t want to see somebody else play with a toy.”

She shook her head wistfully. “You just said it yourself: there is something about you. Whatever the humans have been doing to you, you’ve put on some muscle, and you carry yourself with your head high. Who wouldn’t be at least a little interested?”

“Well, maybe I’m tired of it,” I said. “You said it yourself, I’m happy here, and Mariko is a large part of that happiness.”

“Aha! You admit it!” she said, crowing loud enough that we drew some eyes. We kept on our way, and she continued once we’d blended back in with the crowd. “That’s what I wanted to hear, Mr. Stiff-Upper-Lip. You’ve gone mad! You’re satisfied with this nothing human life.”

“It’s hardly nothing,” I said. “Why, I’m a bit of a celebrity hereabouts. I’m no captain anymore, but I have my whole career ahead of me.”

“Even knowing that the cause is doomed?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe not. Wars don’t always go the way you’d think. Either way, it beats the alternative.”

Her joy vanished, turning into a deep frown. “I thought you were only playing hard to get. You really don’t miss being back home? You were a gentledevil, the top the totem pole! Goblins and orcs at your beck and call, slaves at the ready to die for your pleasure in the gladiator games, and all the brandy you can drink. How can you be satisfied with this drudgery?”

I shrugged. “You’ve been human off and on for months. Surely you’ve noticed the difference. The long knives aren’t always out for you. You can have actual friends, rather than allies of convenience. And l-love—” Our Father Below’s guts, that word could still trip me up. “Love without artifice. Why would I want to go back to the old days? For you? I’ve had better now.”

She considered me in silence for a long moment. I’ve never seen such disappointment in a woman’s eyes before. “Just be ready to do your duty on Wednesday; I’ve already made the arrangements for our escape.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

I turned away without another word, not wanting her to see the worry on my face. I’d put on a brave front, but without those reinforcements, the King—and Soren Marlowe, for that matter—might just be good as dead.

Chapter 57

Belfast, North Ireland

Wednesday, March 8th, 2051

The Harland and Wolff shipyards had been in business, in one form or another, since the nineteenth century. Through ups and downs, two world wars, the collapse of the British Empire, and a flirtation or two with bankruptcy, the yards in Belfast had emerged as a key element of the Anti-Demonic League’s defense infrastructure. With the fall of England and Scotland, there weren’t many other places in the Atlantic for the surviving European and American warships to go in for scheduled repairs.

Or, so Fera explained to us on our way down. I was grateful for the distraction; it was rather noisy in the back of the open truck where we rode in King George’s motorcade. The vehicle was a modified civilian pickup truck with some extra armor plating and reinforcement for the driver, though it didn’t do much for us.

It was a sensible enough arrangement, as bothersome as the noise and cold were. Most spells couldn’t be cast through a solid object, so such transports were common enough for magic users. The theory was that we wizards could whip up our own magical armor in a pinch, and the Horde didn’t usually catch them off guard.

Usually.

“Didn’t take you to be interested in naval history,” said Gabriella, taking my mind off the transports I’d seen destroyed in England.

“I like to know where I’m going,” said Fera. “They’ve really expanded this place in the last few decades.”

“You almost sound impressed, my dear,” I said.

“If you won’t be interested in this mission, then I have to be,” she replied.

“God, can you two stop whatever stupid argument you’re having?” said Gabriella. “I miss back when you two were sickeningly cute all the time.”

“Tell that to him,” said Fera.

Kiyo stayed quiet through it all. Her face was an impassive mask, but I knew her tells when she was agitated. She gripped Bernadette a bit tighter than normal, and the way she kept playing with her side ponytail was plain as day to me after sharing her bed for months. Hopefully, Fera wouldn’t know to look for those tics; I needed to catch her off guard for this scheme to work.

She and Hiro, though the poor man really had no idea what he was leading his squad into. They were in the back of a neighboring truck, looking like nothing was the matter at all.

“We can hash that out later,” I said, noting that the vehicle was coming to a stop.

Even through a fog as thick as an orc’s skull, the mountainous ships and cranes had been faintly visible from a kilometer off. We’d lost sight of them as we closed in, but now we could make out the shapes again. They really hammered in just what human industrial know-how could produce. It made demonic wooden vessels look like children’s toys.

And to think the humans were still losing. Like I’d told Fera, war doesn’t always go the way you would think.

The roar of the motorcade’s engines echoed through the oddly still shipyards as we came to a stop in an equally vacant parking lot. That raised some alarms; it was smack dead in the middle of the work week. Where was everybody?

I got my answer soon enough as one of the mundane Yeomen helped the ladies down from the truck. Funny how nobody offered me a hand down.

“Just as well the King asked ‘em to clear out the yards,” he said. “What a bust of a press op. We can hardly see 3 meters in front of us!”

“Oh, he did?” I asked. It made sense, since he knew this was a sting operation.

He shrugged. “Word was some crank called in a threat. Nothin’ to worry about, in my opinion. Who’s going to try and get through us and two squads of wizards on top of that?”

Oh, Fera was glaring daggers at me when she overhead that. I pretended to be surprised.

“You’d be shocked,” I said. “There are some real nutters out there. I see why we were asked along.”

“I don’t like it,” said Gabby, scanning the shapes of ships and cranes. “If there is somebody here, there’s lots of places a sniper could hide in this fog.”

“Good luck hitting anything,” said Kiyo. “Maybe if you had a good infrared scope, or a magical assist.”

“Speaking of,” I said, “let’s make sure we’re alone. Excuse me a moment.”

I fully surrendered myself to Mimic Sight, and the whole world went dark. There weren’t any signs of magical users past the parking lot, which was encouraging. It meant Fera hadn’t been able to call in any demonkin wizards.

Mariko’s magical signature was showing signs of fraying in the same way as the major and Wendy, though it wasn’t as advanced as them. Encouragingly, Kiyo’s own outline had returned to normal after a week free of Fera’s influence.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about rogue wizards, at least.” I wondered if I’d have been able to make out Dante’s faint magic at that distance.

“A ‘mundane’ with a gun can do plenty of damage,” said the Yeoman, the word mundane dripping with sarcasm.

“Very true,” said Yukiko as she and her squad joined up with us. “We didn’t hear about the threat.”

“It was news to us, too,” said Fera. Her body language had shifted, and I could make out a bit more of the scent of sulfur as Fera acted like her normal self.

Hiro and I met each other’s gaze; he seemed more on guard than Yukiko and the rest of their squad, and I hoped that Fera wouldn’t pick up on that.

Really, I didn’t know what Fera expected to accomplish. Even if I went along with the plan and splattered the King with a Magic Bolt, there was no way we’d be able to escape unscathed with six other wizards and a group of mundane soldiers gunning for us. The lack of magical pawns on the board tilted things even further in our favor. She was no dummy, though; if she said she’d prepared for our escape, I didn’t doubt her.

King George exited his armored limo, moving with more ease than any time since my knighting ceremony. It seemed he’d taken whatever drugs could give him a semblance of strength. Unlike Hiro and Kiyo, you’d never think he was willingly walking into an ambush. He even smiled and posed for a few pictures from the small band of reporters who had accompanied him for the christening. Their cameras clicked away as they snapped whatever photos they could manage, but the fog likely spoiled the bulk of them.

A few men strode up to us from one of the few parked cars that had been waiting for us. A pair of Yeomen quickly intercepted them, letting them pass once they’d identified themselves.

“Your Majesty,” said a red-haired man in a black and gold naval captain’s uniform. “I’m honored that you’ve graced us with your presence today.”

King George nodded. “It’s always a pleasure to be with the working men.”

The captain’s smile slipped only slightly. “A shame they couldn’t be here, then.”

“It’s for their own good,” he replied. “I know you heard about that threat.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” said the captain. “Still seems odd to christen the ship without the crew present.”

“I want as few young men and women to risk themselves for my old carcass as possible,” he said, his tone signaling that he was done with the conversation. “Your crew will have plenty of chances to be in danger.”

“Of course,” said the captain, losing the argument. He nodded to one of his companions, a shorter man in a three-piece suit. “I’m sure you know Reggie Jackson of Harland and Wolff?”

“They’ll be at this a while,” the Yeoman said, keeping his voice down. “Someone ought to go ahead and scout out the area. Who knows what this pea soup is hiding?”

“We’ll take care of that,” I said, hooking my arm in Fera’s. “Come, my dear, keep me company.”

“Just the two of you?” asked Hiro.

“I have Mimic Sight, and Mariko’s perfectly competent to keep me from falling into the bay,” I said, forcing a jovial tone to my voice. “If I read our instructions correctly, the king ought to be… blessing that one?”

“My, Kasasagi, you really didn’t pay much attention,” said Fera. Her attempt to step on my foot was spoiled by my combat boot. “‘That one’? You mean the H.M.S. Bermuda, and it’s that way.”

I made a show of rapping on my skull. “Of course, how could I forget? What would I do without you?”

“Wither away and die, probably,” said Fera, her voice suddenly soft and playful.

“Go back to fighting,” said Gabriella, turning back to the overly long greetings between the King and the other officials.

The fog worked out in my favor. I’d used the word recon on purpose, and Kiyo had recognized the signal. She might have evaded Fera’s sight even without her invisibility. For once, I was glad to have her tailing us.

“We don’t have long,” said Fera, breaking free of me. “Double time!”

We jogged the rest of the way down the concrete roadways between the berthed ships, rounding a corner where a temporary platform stretched along the side of one of the Bermuda. The fog was slowly starting to clear as we neared the sea, giving me a clearer look at the veseel. It wasn’t the largest ship in the dock, which was still a bit like being the shortest orc.

Despite Fera’s insults, I had done some research. Given the imbalance between the human and Grim Horde navies, most newer combat ships weren’t massive battleships or aircraft carriers. It would have rated as a smaller destroyer during World War II, and most of its weapons were designed to shred the rowboats and sailing vessels the Horde would employ in an attempted landing. There were a pair of larger guns in a turret to help batter down any magical defenses that a devil could raise, but that wasn’t its primary job.

None of the official stories I’d looked up said anything about the counter-jamming fabricata the king had mentioned. As we strode past it, I noticed a few stanzas of runes running along the armor plates, though I couldn’t make out the larger spell. The lettering didn’t need to be especially large to channel whatever magic was fed into it.

“Are you ready to do your part of the job?” asked Fera. “The King shouldn’t be too far behind us.”

“I’m not entirely sure you’ve done your part,” I said. “I don’t see any signs of your so-called escape.”

“I saw you looking for them before,” she said. “Unlike Daddy, I don’t like wasting demonkin wizards if I can avoid it.” She crossed her arms under her chest and shot me a sly grin. “You held out on us! Who’d have thought that you’d turn into a magical radar?”

Aha, the real reason there weren’t any wizards about! It made sense she’d figure me out; she had been riding two of the wizards who had helped me develop my talents, after all.

“The human approach can uncover some interesting quirks to magic,” I said, steeling myself. This would be a terrible gamble, but it was the only alternative I had to throwing away my humanity. “Speaking of which, I’d like to give my dear Mariko a bit of a going away present.”

Fera tilted her head. “Hm? What kind of a present?”

“Something that Moulham Lahlou was working on before we parted ways,” I said. “You saw that Alheln didn’t do Mariko’s nerves any good. He seemed to think it was because the spell was based on demonic runes, rather than on the human type. So, I’ve been busy cramming his reworking of it into my head this week. I’d like to give it a shot.”

Fera’s cheeks flushed slightly as she gripped Mariko’s ruined hand. “Ara, that certainly got Mariko’s attention! Are you sure you want to set her up for another letdown?”

“Better than torturing her with what could have been,” I said.

“Ooh, that’s a reason to say no,” she said. “The despair would be delicious.”

“If it could fix her, it would make your final moments occupying her body more pleasant. Why, your hand is twitching away as we speak!”

Fera gave me a thoughtful look. “You’re going to insist, aren’t you?”

“When will I get another chance?”

Fera let out a theatrical sigh as she spread her arms wide. “Oh, very well. Knock yourself out.”

I twisted my fingers into the familiar casting position. The visualization that let me change it from Raw Spell to True Spell was a tad different, though, since I’d added a little something extra. The magical stanza that ordered the body to sort itself into its natural shape had an extra addition: the body and soul were to return to their proper condition. It was why I hadn’t already ambushed her with the magic; refactoring and spell memorization were complex processes, and I’d had a week’s worth of long nights learning this one.

“All Heal,” I intoned, the runes swirling around my hand exploding into a brief glow that surrounded Mariko’s body.

Fera’s eyes went wide, and she let out a pained squeak as she staggered back. “What… what was that?”

“All Heal, of course,” I said.

“N-no, I’ve felt that a hundred times, that isn’t how…” Her hand shot up to cover her mouth, as though to prevent vomiting. Mariko’s dark brown eyes were wild.

My guts churned; had I managed to do some real damage to Mariko? Had Mr. Lahlou been right about the refactored spell needing those safeguards? “Fera?”

“Wrong, all wrong,” she said. “N-need to…”

Mariko’s body shone brilliantly for a moment, and I was grateful that the ship and fog were there to obscure the light show from those in the distance.

Just a moment, though. Fera’s breathing became less labored, and after that moment, the glow ceased. She straightened up, wiping a trail of drool from her delicate mouth.

Instinct took over and I closed in to check on her. “Mariko?”

“Bahadour.” It was surreal hearing the harsh demonic come out in Mariko’s normally gentle voice. There was no time to dodge or cast a counterspell. Ragged red lightning lashed out at my chest, burning through my fabricata capelet and the enchanted uniform underneath in an instant. They saved my life, though I still doubled over as the demonic magic scorched the top layer of my flesh.

“I don’t know what you did,” snarled Fera, lunging forward, “but it just about drove me out of Mariko.”

“An unintended side—” Thankfully, Mariko didn’t have much oomph behind her punch. It was still more than I could handle when I was dealing with my deeper wound, and I fell to one knee.

“As if I’d believe that,” she said. “Otherwise, why did you say her name?”

“Because a devil can dream.”

“You stubborn idiot,” she said, her expression softening ever so slightly. “You nearly made me kill you! That would spoil everything I was trying to achieve!”

“Sorry to disappoint. All Heal!” I lunged forward catching her before she could react. I’d considered turning the magic on myself, but I saw an opportunity to set up Plan B.

Fera convulsed again as the cleansing magic coursed through her stolen body.

“Y-you traitorous son of a bitch,” slurred Fera in Demonic.

“Kiyo, now! While she’s off balance!”

Thank the Dark Lord Kiyo had managed to stay quiet this time when I’d been blasted. Ms. Jones didn’t need another hint, and her footfalls echoed in the empty space. Fera’s eyes went wild as she tried to track the source of the attack, and she fired an errant Fireball that dashed itself harmlessly against the Bermuda’s hull. The fabricata lit up briefly as the magical energy dissipated.

I blinked and missed when Kiyo clamped the magical shackle on Fera’s left wrist.

“No!” shouted Fera. “Bahad-arrgh!” Arcs of magical energy shot up her arm, turning her own power against her.

“Gotcha!” Kiyo reappeared well out of arm’s reach with Bernadette leveled right at Fera. “Hands behind your head.”

“Alheln!” I turned the demonic variant on myself, since I didn’t care to find out that the reworked spell would vex me the same way as Fera. The pain in my chest vanished in an instant and I hopped to my feet, fingers at the ready.

Fera’s wild eyes glanced between the two of us as the gravity of her situation sank in.

“I said,” growled Kiyo, “hands behind your head.”

“Best do what she says,” I said.

I’d expected Fera to reply somehow, to object, maybe even to laugh that she was about to end Mariko. It was useful to get a wizard talking, since it would keep them from casting spells.

Fera let me down, grunting as electric sparks shot up her shackled arm.

“Nice try,” I said. “Your magic is only powering your torture. You’re stuck in Mariko’s body until it’s removed.” I prayed that she wouldn’t call my bluff.

As often seemed to be the case, my prayers went unanswered. If anything, the sparks redoubled as she struggled fruitlessly with the shackle.

“You won’t shoot,” she snarled at Kiyo. “I’ve been in your head. You don’t hate Mariko enough to do that.”

“Yeah, but I hate you enough to forget she’s in there with you!”

Fera didn’t reply, and the energy coursing from the shackle changed from the red arcs of energy to black flecks that floated away in the sea breeze.

I rushed in, cursing all the while. Mariko had managed to turn her affinity against the same shackles in the Tower, but the agony had stopped her before she could free herself. Fera seemed to have a higher pain tolerance.

I grabbed her by the right wrist, trying to force her hand off the shackle. “Stop it! Know when you’re beat!”

Fera had done enough, though, and the fabricata clattered to the concrete beneath us. There was a bright flash of light and Mariko’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. She collapsed into my arms and didn’t move again.

“Mariko!” No, not her! This was the nightmare I’d tried to avoid for weeks. A quick check of her pulse showed that she was still alive, at least, thank Our Father Below. I set her down as gently as I could, knowing I would need my hands free.

However, my distraction would cost us; I wasn’t there to intercept Fera’s soul this time.

“Magpie! No, not—” Kiyo spasmed, nearly dropping Bernadette as a familiar smirk crossed her face.

Combat is very much a game of reflexes and instincts, and mine let me down. Despite the grave danger, I couldn’t bring myself to launch a lethal spell at Kiyo. Instead, I rushed in, ready to try and drop her with Electrify, a relatively harmless spell I’d used to great effect in the past.

That was how I found myself facing down the business end of Bernadette well out of reach of Kiyo.

“Hands behind your head,” she said in perfect, aristocratic Demonic. “She’s got an armor piercing fabricata round loaded. Don’t make me deliver a corpse to your father.”