Chapter 58

“You can come out already,” Fera called out in Kiyo’s stolen voice.

I was on my knees before her, my hands behind my head. “Who are you talking to?”

“Who do ya think, mate?” said Dante as he clambered up over the side of the dock. In the fog, I’d missed the rope ladder slung over the side. There must have been a smaller boat or a platform down here, since he was bone dry. Two men I didn’t recognize joined him, both clad in thick winter coats. “Mornin’, Mistress Fera. Lovely to see you again.” His own Demonic was of a lower sort and bore an atrocious accent.

“Don’t you ‘morning’ me,” she said. “They nearly trapped me in that overstuffed cow’s body, and you didn’t so much as call out to see what was the matter!”

“Terribly sorry, Mistress,” he said, removing his bent hat regretfully. “It all happened right quick, and you’d fixed it before we realized what was goin’ on.”

Fera shot me a spiteful glare. “Seems I can’t get any good help today. Tie these three up and get them out of sight.”

“You heard her,” said Dante, snapping his fingers in the face of one of his companions. He strode over towards me, pulling out a pair of demonic shackles from his satchel. “Now, you aren’t gonna give me any trouble, right?”

“If he does, I’ll snuff out Kiyo right after I blast his useless head to a pulp.”

“Now, you keep saying that,” I said. “But Mariko is still alive.”

“She’s valuable,” she replied. “Kiyo isn’t. Don’t make me carry out my threat; it’s a bother to live through a ride’s death.”

“What do you—” Dante roughly shoving my hands behind my back cut me off. “What do you mean, you think she’s valuable? Aren’t there plenty of cooks in Pandemonium?” I had an inkling of what she meant, but again, if she was talking, she wasn’t casting, and there was a chance our friends would send someone to find us.

“You lack imagination,” she said. “Mariko has an unprecedented affinity. Actual transmutation, none of that sham temporary stuff merchants use to scam the rubes! To think, the Wizard Corps never realized what they were sitting on. Just think what we could do with that back home!”

My eyes widened. “Wait, then you were never going to leave her body?”

“Oh, as soon as possible,” she replied. “But she was going to be such a useful slave. I’d have even let you keep her as a pet, if you hadn’t gone and violated my trust.”

I smirked up at her. “Regardless, I’ve spoiled your whole scheme. It won’t be me who kills the king, if you can even pull it off without my help. You’re still outnumbered five to one by the remaining wizards, to say nothing of the mundane soldiers. It’s over.”

“Oh, you think so?” One of the other demonkin relieved Fera of Bernadette and prepared to shackle Kiyo’s hands, though he didn’t close the mechanism just yet. Kiyo’s body spasmed again, and Fera’s natural form materialized after brilliant lights erupted from Kiyo.

Something seemed different about her, though. I couldn’t put my finger on it straight away, but I realized that her normally yellow eyes had taken on Mariko’s dark brown hue. If the demonkin noticed, they didn’t give a sign; one was busy hefting Mariko’s unconscious form over his shoulder, while the other finished binding Kiyo now that his mistress had escaped.

I kept Fera’s transformation to myself; I was rather occupied with Dante hauling me to my feet, and none too gently.

“Well,” I said, resuming the conversation and trying to ignore the uncanny change in Fera’s appearance, “I don’t see how I’ll be doing it like this.”

“Dante,” she said, ignoring me completely. “Do you have that wand?”

“Right here, Mistress Fera,” he said, pulling a familiar piece of white wood from his pocket.

“Excellent,” she said, the closest she came to a ‘thank you’. She shut her eyes to concentrate a moment, and I found myself looking at my twin brother.

“Where the devil did you get that?” I demanded.

“You sent home a lot of interesting information in your reports, Kasasagi,” she said in my voice. “Pursuing those leads has kept Dante employed, for sure. The disguise magic the Holy Brotherhood used had a lot of potential! Being able to look like a target without having to ride them would save me a lot of bother.”

And a bit of unintended bleed over, I didn’t say. My modified All Heal hadn’t been enough to drive her out of Mariko, but it had definitely left its mark.

“Dante was able to schmooze his way into an evidence locker in Tokyo and swap Haru Obe’s wand for a fake. He exceeded my expectations with that one.”

“It’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he said, preening proudly. “Got ya some other goodies, too,” he said, handling her another satchel. “Gonna need these for the escape.”

“Good man,” said Fera.

“Then this was your plan the whole time,” I said. “You always intended to do the deed yourself.”

“No, because where would be the fun in that?” She tousled my hair playfully before delivering a stinging slap across my face. Unlike her love tap in Mariko’s body, I was seeing stars. However Fera had changed, she hadn’t lost her enhanced demonic strength. “I thought you’d see sense, but after your botch job in Nagoya, I wasn’t going in without an insurance policy!”

“Fair enough,” I said, trying to sound unconcerned. “You haven’t fully thought this through, though. I take it you never figured out how to customize the image stored in the wand?”

“Not yet,” admitted Dante. “Didn’t have much of a chance to go over it before the attack.”

That was a relief; I’d only have to watch out for my own face. “You know, we devils are really an uncreative lot. You’re simply rehashing the Brotherhood’s schemes.”

Fera shrugged. “They pilfered our technology jammers and other fabricata. It seems fair enough to me. Though, that gives me an idea. I was going to kill the King in the name of the Horde, but I think I can have the humans chasing their tails looking for a dead cult for years.”

So much for that hope. “That still doesn’t solve your numbers problem."

Fera snapped her fingers. “Dante, I’m tired of hearing his voice.”

“You picked the wrong disguise, then,” I said a moment before Dante slammed a scarred fist into my gut, doubling me over. It seemed that with the magic suppressing shackles on, my fabricata uniform was only as good as wool.

“Not so big now, are you, Malthus?” Before I could catch my breath, my mouth was covered with a strip of duct tape. “Think you can treat me how you like ‘cause you’ve got magic and I don’t. See how you like it!” He hammered me again, and stars danced before my eyes.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“Dante,” said Fera, fishing the ivory magical communicator from my ear, “we do still want him alive. Go take him and the others to the boat. Let him think about where his loyalties lie. His good behavior will decide what becomes of Ms. Jones.”

“Right away, Mistress Fera,” he said. He whistled for the other two demonkin and spat an order in a language I didn’t recognize.

As we were carried away, Fera tapped her ear.

“Gabby, my dear, what a pleasant surprise! No, we were simply being thorough. Everything’s all clear. Kiyo had an idea, though; we’ll be watching from aboard the Bermuda; seems sensible to have Kiyo with two spotters to get above this pea soup.” She paused. “Oh, no worries there, my dear. We won’t miss the ceremony. I’ll be down to see King George when the time is right.”

Gabriella didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, which meant we were on our own. I sighed; was it too much to ask for the occasional rescue?

Chapter 59

“Where am I?” murmured Mariko. “What’s…” Tears of relief flowed as she realized she could speak. “Soren, I’m free!”

Comparatively free, I supposed. Dante and his men had carried us down a rope ladder tied to the side of the dock and deposited us in a fiberglass motorboat. One of the demonkin, a swarthy man missing most of his right ear, stayed in the craft to watch us, leaving Dante and his fellow to go Enemy-knows-where. I surmised our guard was the junior demonkin, since it was a wet, cold job, and with all three of us laid across the narrow deck, he didn’t have much room to stand.

I seriously wondered what Fera was thinking. This boat wouldn’t have carried all of us to the next county in any serious weather, much less across the Irish Sea. Hell, I’d have almost taken my chances with Wendy’s bathtub, if I could have had it to myself.

It did mean we only had one guard to concern ourselves with, which was a small favor.

Unfortunately, Mariko had drawn attention to herself. He whirled around at the unexpected voice, nearly capsizing the boat.

“Christ on a cracker, you’re awake?” He reached out to one of the dock’s wooden supports, steadying our rocking craft. “Damn it all, Percival didn’t tape you, too.” The man patted the pockets of his jacket and his toolbelt, looking to fix that problem.

Percival? I could see why he preferred Dante.

Mariko took her newfound freedom from Fera better than Kiyo had, though I think the immediate danger helped give her focus. There was no screaming, and the tears dried themselves quickly.

“Vincento, please,” she said.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. “Use my daemonym.”

“Very well, Diavolo,” she said. “Diavolo, I heard you talking with Fera. You don’t have to work with them to see your home again!”

Oh poor, sweet Mariko, thinking she could reason with a demonkin.

To prove my unspoken point, Diavolo covered her mouth with a filthy hand. “Hush! Forget home; I’m getting a mansion from my mistress in Pandemonium when this is all over.”

Astounding how the fool could believe that. As if a full-blooded human would be anything but a slave back home. I almost wanted him to live long enough to find out. Almost.

Diavolo continued. “Now, I’m gonna take my hand off your pretty little mouth, and if you make a noise, I’m tossing you overboard. The mistress’ll understand.”

Terror flashed through Mariko’s eyes before she nodded once. She kept her word as Diavolo stood back up.

I was grateful for the distraction, though; I hadn’t been completely inactive before she had awoken. I had sorted out that these fabricata shackles were the human variety, which was a boon. They’d hurt like Hell if we cast magic, but they wouldn’t cause actual damage to the target. Dante likely swiped them from the Wizard Corps’ storage along with Haru’s disguise wand; they’d arouse less suspicion than a demonic artifact.

It had hurt a bit (especially when Diavolo kicked me when my shackles started to spark), but I’d also been able to briefly scan the area through Mimic Sight; Dante was the most magically gifted of the bunch, and I’d missed him at a distance.

Up close, though, I could see that he and Fera had positioned themselves on the main deck of the Bermuda. The gangplank had been lowered when we had arrived, likely to give the King a chance to tour the boat, if he so chose. I assumed that their other demonkin compatriot was up there too, since I could faintly see the charged fabricata bullet loaded in Bernadette and the bandolier of ammo they’d stolen from Kiyo floating in midair. Diavolo also seemed to have a few lightly charged magical devices on his person, likely communicators.

When would Fera strike? I’d seen the bottle of bubbly he’d brought with him for the ceremony; would she cut that off, or wait for him to come to her?

It was all academic for the moment; I had to get free before it mattered much to us. Fortunately, Dante hadn’t thought to shackle my legs. I still couldn’t move much in the confined space, along with the risk of capsizing our little boat, but I had a plan. I just needed an opening.

I got one when a sentence in harsh demonic erupted from Diavolo’s pocket demanding to know the situation. Of course these play-demons would want to get in character. Diavolo replied that everything was under control, aside from it being “wetter than goblin’s backside.” It was a common enough turn of phrase back home, but he said it with the wrong inflection. Outside of that, they almost sounded fluent, which made me wonder just how many demonkin they had to practice with.

A distressing question for another time. While he put away his communicator, I rose to a crouch. The motion passed through the boat, drawing his attention immediately.

“What the Hell are you up to?” demanded Diavolo.

I flopped on top of Kiyo, which woke her up with a startled yelp, before rolling off her and pressing my bound wrists into Diavolo’s leg. Before he could respond, I willed magic through my shackles, sending arcs of magically powered electricity through my body and into Diavolo’s legs.

I expected the agony from my enchanted bonds, so I was able to more or less ride it out; he did not, and he jerked back in surprise, flopping into the water with a splash.

“Soren, wait!” said Mariko.

Him or us, I couldn’t say. Probably best my mouth was still taped shut. I used the opportunity to rise, my legs still shaky from the shackles’ shock. I wasn’t as careful enough, and the motion rocked the boat.

I was doing better than my opponent, though. Diavolo desperately splashed around, his heavy coat and gear weighing him down. He grabbed the side of the fiberglass boat, but I brought my combat boot down on his fingers before he could capsize us. From the snapping sounds, I’d managed to break a few bones in the process, and I followed up with a boot to his face. The maneuver nearly sent me into the drink after him, but it did the trick. He recoiled, and between that injury and the weight of his gear, he disappeared into the murky harbor.

I struggled to catch my breath through the thick tape, but again, I was better off than him.

“That bitch got me again!” said Kiyo. “Soren, Mariko, I-I’m sorry. You had her until—”

“Soren, you just killed that man in cold blood!” Mariko shouted.

“Okay, guess I don’t need to apologize.” Kiyo rolled her eyes as she rose to her knees. “Yeah, Mariko, feel sorry for the guy who sold his soul to the devil and wanted to cart us off into slavery.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

“He made his choice,” she continued. “Now, c’mon, we gotta get free!”

Easier said than done. We clearly weren’t going to make it up the rope ladder with our wrists bound, and none of us had any tools that would break the metal shackles. Hell, none of us had a convenient way to ungag me.

Mariko looked away from the fading stream of bubbles where Diavolo had disappeared. “Soren, don’t try to stop me. If she can do it, then so can I.”

I wasn’t sure what Mariko meant until lightning arced up and down her arms as she activated Lovely Alchemy. I looked away, unable to watch her misery, but there was no alternative I could see. She had to start and stop a few times, but she ultimately did disintegrate enough of her bonds that they fell away.

To my surprise, Mariko freed Kiyo first. “Kiyo, go invisible and climb up there. We don’t know how long we have until they carry out their plan.”

“Roger!” Kiyo blinked out of sight and clambered up the rope ladder. It seemed that tackling The Gauntlet every morning had done us some good.

Mariko freed me before collapsing into my arms, letting out an audible sob that stabbed at me like a knife.

“Didn’t want Kiyo to see?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Soren, I… this week…”

“I know,” I said, caressing her head, trying to will the misery out of her. “I failed you.”

“You always do blame yourself.” She let out a raspy sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. “No, you were so brave. I know it was hard on you, too.” She took a deep, ragged breath before stepping away. “Come on, we need to get going before—”

The triple report of a military rifle echoed through the shipyard. It was one of the Yeoman’s weapons, if I didn’t miss my guess.

“That,” I said, finishing her thought as I rushed up the rope ladder. I stopped partway up as my guts fell into my ankles.

I hadn’t been able to see until I got a higher vantage point, but there were a pair of ominous shapes hidden beneath the docks. The two vessels looked like Viking longboats from the book of Norse myths I’d read once. I hadn’t ever seen anything quite like them in person, but I recognized the angular Orcish symbols decorating the prows of the two vessels. There wasn’t a soul on board either boat, each of which looked fit to carry forty men.

Or, something man shaped…

More shots rang out; there wasn’t time to do anything about empty boats. Not when I had a good guess where their crews were. I resumed my climb, cursing the whole way.