Chapter 62

Mariko snapped out of her daze long enough to register what had happened to Gabriella and let out a startled shriek.

I very nearly joined her. Guilt welled up inside of me. I’d done it again, hadn’t I? Another innocent slain for being too close to me.

Could I have prevented this? What if I’d insisted the Yeomen stay to help? What if I’d tried my scheme to drive Fera out of Mariko before we even left, damn the consequences of having it out with Fera back at Stormont Estate?

I knew exactly what was coming next, though; there wasn’t time to ruminate. “Svalinn’s Mercy!” I created a floating barrier the size of an orc to shield Antoni and the wounded Kowalski.

“Bahadour!” None too soon, it seemed. Fera’s spell dashed against my barrier, though cracks spiderwebbed through the energy structure.

I hadn’t bothered looking before casting, but predictably, there was Fera at the top of the gangplank. She still wore my face, standing next to her rifle-toting demonkin minion. He was busily loading another of Kiyo’s enchanted bullets into Bernadette. There was no sign of Dante, but then, he didn’t seem to be much of a fighter.

“Oh, pooh,” said Fera, her voice carrying in the relative silence. “I’d expected you to defend yourself first.”

“I know you too well,” I said. “The whole reason you’re disguised as me is to wound my spirit. Of course you’d try to finish them off.”

I wasn’t the only one concerned with my fellow soldier; while we were chatting, Buddy had oozed away from Kowalski and was trying to haul Gabriella under my shield. It wasn’t going well; Buddy was a reflection of Kowalski’s strength, and the Polish man was laying in a pool of his own blood.

Antoni seemed torn on who to try and heal, but his loyalty to his countryman won out and he kept working on Kowalski’s pierced thigh.

Kiyo took advantage of the lull in the conversation to cast her own spell. “Magic Bolt!”

Fera’s fingers went into overdrive. “Teifenshold!” A defensive barrier shaped like a tower shield snapped into place in front of her, strapped to her left arm. It was a bit similar to Svalinn’s Mercy, but without the mobility. Perfect for personal defense when you weren’t in a hurry.

Kiyo wasn’t targeting Fera, though, and the demonkin sharpshooter bore the brunt of her months of frustration. Magic Bolts are typically the size of a basketball, give or take. The orb of concentrated magic that took a chunk out of his left shoulder was easily twice that large. He went down with a shocked wail, a half-loaded Bernadette clattering down the gangplank before him.

“Our Father Below, can’t I get any good help?” Fera rolled her eyes before kicking the maimed man into the drink next to the Bermuda. “You are just the most difficult little nothing, Jones!”

Kiyo responded by winking out of sight, though towards what end I couldn’t be sure.

“I should know,” she continued, demonic runes dancing around her hands. “I had to live your stupid, nothing life for days on end while you mewled about it incessantly.”

If Fera was trying to goad Kiyo into speaking, it was a wasted effort.

“Mariko,” I said, preparing to cast my own spell. “While she’s distracted, get over there and stabilize Gabby!”

It turned out I didn’t need to give the command; before I could finish, Mariko was running towards our fallen friends as fast as she could.

Even with the shield in the way, I figured Fera would launch another attack. Mariko could have warned me first; it barely gave me time to react. Would Fera leave herself open to strike at Mariko, or aim straight for me?

“Svalinn’s Mercy!”

Of course, there wasn’t really a choice. I knew whose hide I valued more, and that wasn’t mine. Love does tend to make one a bit mad.

The shield popped up between Mariko and Fera and, with a thought, tracked her speed as she ran.

“They’re distracted!” bellowed Fera in demonic. “Try again!” She didn’t dismiss her barrier, but stepped aside for her minions.

The pipes wailed for a charge again. Now, orcs can often look alike to devil eyes, but it seemed to me that there were some fresher faces in this batch of demons. They definitely looked like they hadn’t just gone through a magic wringer. There were more worn-down orcs in the back ranks, though they seemed to have gotten a second wind.

That was more than I could say for our sorry lot. The only ones who weren’t busy trying to keep our compatriots from bleeding out were Kiyo and I. I still had no earthly clue where Yukiko and Hiro had gone, and I was starting to worry I’d have two more names to add to the list of people to weigh on my conscience.

A worry for when I didn’t have wall of green hate heading straight for me. Seeing that Fera was satisfied to let her minions do the dirty work, I dispelled the Svalinn’s Mercies to save casting energy. I saw a chance to end this, and I’d need some raw power to make it happen.

“Fireball!”

After all, Fera had conveniently placed herself in plain sight. I no longer needed to preserve the gangplank.

The envelope of flaming energy was probably the fourth largest I’d ever made, and it burnt away the pathetic remnants of the morning fog. At that size, the Fireball itself had enough mass and force behind it to hit like a bus; the fiery explosion at the end was simply a bonus. The Bermuda rocked as the runes in its fabricata hull lit up from one end off towards the unseen foreship, desperately trying to dissipate the blast.

I didn’t have time to celebrate, though, as I saw Fera vanish an instant before the spell would have rightly incinerated her.

The mass of orcs was saved by their speed; a Fireball of that size can’t move as quickly, at least not without expending more energy than I was willing to spare. More than a few were flash fried by the flames, or blown away like leaves in storm by the subsequent blast. A few fell into the harbor next to the Bermuda, but not nearly enough of them.

I wanted to track down Fera’s ethereal form with Mimic Sight, but I couldn’t split my focus with a detachment of fighting-mad orcs descending on my friends! I darted over as fast as my legs could carry me.

“Svalinn’s Mercy!” I was a bit cruel with that one; I placed it sideways at the orcs’ shin height. The defensive spell had a wicked edge on its own (which was why it had been so easy to refine into a weapon), and one of the lead orcs ran into it, cleanly removing his left leg. He pitched forward, tripping up his fellow behind him. The next dodged the trap, but fell to a heap to be trampled by the mass of them.

It’s all I had time to cast before I reached Mariko and Gabriella, interposing myself between them and the mass of demons.

“Soren, I was able to stop the…” Mariko looked up, her hopeful face falling as she realized what was coming.

Runes swirled around my hands as I tried to work up the wherewithal for another earthshattering Fireball, but I was interrupted as a green giant bowled into me. Curiously, he hadn’t run me through with a pike or slashed me with a curved sword.

Mind you, I didn’t have time to appreciate that fact as he slammed me into the ground hard enough that I heard something crack.

“Kasasagi!” I couldn’t see Mariko, she should have been concerned for herself as the orcs washed over us like a wave.

I clawed at my assailant’s face, which only got me raised and slammed down again. The all-too familiar burn of broken ribs spread through my chest, and stars danced before my eyes.

“Yield, you impossible man!” spat the orc in a far-too refined High Demonic. “Know when you’re beaten!”

I managed a sly smirk up. “How could I say no to such a pretty face, Fera?”

It seemed I’d guessed right about her choice of escape vehicle from the blast. My reward was a tooth-loosening right cross, and then darkness.

Chapter 63

If All Heal is rough on the body when you’re braced for it, it’s an even worse way to wake up. At least it fixed up my battered ribs.

To my shock, I sat awake with unbound hands. Once I’d gotten over the initial pain, I had enough focus to find that odd. Fera couldn’t be so foolish as that, could she?

“Good, you’re awake,” said Mariko in High Demonic, and my stomach sank. She didn’t need to tie me up if she was riding Mariko. The possessed woman’s sweet smile looked natural, but the predatory glint in her eyes was all Fera.

Wanting to focus on something else, I looked away, trying to get my bearings. We’d left behind the scene of carnage at the docks for what I took to be the deck of the Bermuda. We were on the opposite side of the ship from our earlier battle, near the fore. Everywhere I looked, the ship bore dents and scrapes from Gabriella’s Magic Mortar strike. It was all cosmetic, mind you, but impressive for one girl. Especially as I realized that the metallic deck was inlaid with more of those energy dispersing runes.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

I wondered how the Hell we’d managed to get up there; I distinctly remembered slagging the gangplank. Was there a spare?

The chatter around me in Low Demonic reminded me there were bigger concerns. The remaining orcs, some thirty strong, were bandaging themselves up and looking for missing clansmen among the survivors. The goblin pipers were taking a well-earned break while others of their bald, four-fingered kinsmen were fussing with a fabricata-festooned device I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t much taller than the diminutive demons. I was reminded a bit of a child’s top, only with a sharpened point at the base.

My hands were free, but nobody else’s were. Antoni, Kowalski, and Gabriella each had an orc pinning them down from behind, a dagger at their throats. They were all breathing, which was a relief, though all three were unconscious.

“Get up, Malthus,” said Fera,. “You have work to do.”

“Do I? It rather seems like the battle’s over,” I said, sounding as dismissive as I could. I might as well have a little fun. “The benefit of losing is getting to relax a bit.”

“You’ve only just started,” she replied. “After all, you’re going to execute your little friends there, and then you’re going to activate this fabricata.”

“My dear, you’ve captured me, but all you’re entitled to is my name, rank, and serial number.”

Fera snapped her fingers. “Atilla.”

An orc dashed from the side and clocked me in the face before I could respond, knocking me to the ground and pinning me as expertly as they had done to my unconscious allies. Damn those fast brutes!

Fera’s stolen eyes were colder than I’d ever seen from her owner. “You misunderstand your position. I’ve tried to be nice.”

“You really think that, don’t—”

She snapped her fingers again, and the orc dug his fingernails into my flesh. I managed to stifle a grunt of pain; it would only encourage the savage.

“I’ve tried to be nice,” she repeated. “I know how soft you’ve become with these humans, and I didn’t want you to mope around about it. Nobody had to die except the king. I was even going to bring your girlfriend along, maybe let you see her now and again.”

“You’re so generous,” I said with all the sarcasm I could muster.

“Too generous, obviously,” she said. “You’ve acted like you’re one of them for too long. It seems you’ve forgotten how much of their blood you have on your hands.”

“Oh, I never do,” I said. “Some of them have simply seen fit to tolerate me.”

“Mariko did more than tolerate you. She…” Fera suppressed a shudder. “She forgave you,” she added, practically spitting that f-word. “Who do you think you are? Some reprobate human who’s redeemed himself, forgiven by the Enemy’s Son and promising to be a good boy going forward?”

“I’m not so far gone,” I said, barking a harsh laugh at that idea. “Sticking with the humans was simply the best opportunity I had before me.”

Fera’s half-lidded glare told me she was having none of it. “Then it’s time that you remind yourself what you are. Freshen up that blood on your hands a bit so you’ll stop pretending you’re one of them.” She nodded to Atilla, who let me stand.

“Mistress,” said Dante, stepping forward from the crowd, “just have the orcs do it! It’s what they’re here for.”

“It has to be him,” said Fera, “or else he’ll think he still has a home here.”

“There’s no time.” Dante pointed at the rising sun. “Mistress, the fog’s just about cleared. Those little boats of yours’ll get missed by the humans in the gloom, we’ll be dead to rights in the sunlight.”

I perked up my ear; I could hear distant sirens wailing in Belfast proper, though the fact that they were running meant they were still outside of the technology jamming field.

“Damn, and I wanted those wizards to see it coming,” she said, before turning back my way. “It’s why Malthus here has until the count of ten to vaporize their little heads,” said Fera, squeezing my cheek almost playfully. “And if he does anything else, the orcs will do the job anyway. Then I’ll snuff out this woman without a second thought, transmutation affinity or no. To finish things off, every orc in Ireland is going to rip him limb from limb and we just won’t tell Malthus the Elder we found his son. One.”

She certainly wasn’t giving me much time to think!

I was out of ideas. So much for my ability to improvise. Kiyo was still out there, in theory, but I had no time to check for her with Mimic Sight. Even if she was on the deck with us, she couldn’t separate Fera and Mariko any better than I could.

“Three. Four,” she continued.

But could I really kill my comrades to save my own skin? It wasn’t like it would make much difference, and it would give Mariko and I a chance at something like survival.

“Six. Seven.”

But, would she even want to survive at that cost? For the Dark Lord’s sake, she’d nearly had a meltdown dispatching two orcs who were trying to kill me! She was watching everything I did, and I could practically hear her screaming from inside of Fera, begging me not to.

I set my jaw. That decided it. If things were truly hopeless, if this was the end, then I’d be damned if I was going to be Fera’s errand boy.

Maybe it was time to resort to Sergeant Lakhdar’s scorched earth proposal, and simply try to vaporize victim and host with the biggest Fireball I could manage. Fera certainly wouldn’t see it coming…

No. Even if it was sensible, Mariko Yamada had always driven me to irrationality. I couldn’t stand to hurt her. I’d simply have to cut down Fera when she jumped out.

“Nine…” There was hesitation in Fera’s voice, and she stretched out the time between nine and ten. Her stolen brown eyes bored into me, begging me to make the smart choice, to be the devil I was born to be.

I could possibly save the others, I realized. Or at least, deal with those orcs before they could carry out the bloody act. Runes danced around my hands as I prepared a Bloody Lance great enough to be seen from the city.

“Fine, you win!” I said. “Call them off!”

“Wait,” she said, gesturing at the orcs, who withdrew their blades back to a resting position. “The rest of you, step back. This looks like a big one.” There was fear in her eyes. “Too big! Malthus, what are you thinking?”

I hesitated, perhaps wanting to draw out the moment before Fera realized my betrayal and left Mariko a lifeless husk.

That hesitation turned out to be pivotal, though, as a sound like a thundercrack echoed through the shipyard and a human-sized figure rocketed into view from the dock below, arching straight at us. Orcs and goblins cried out in panic, and the pipers blared the first strains of a general alarm, though they’d be far too late to respond before he landed.

Fera’s eyes widened, all thoughts of counting banished. “What the Hell is he doing here?”

That was my question. Fera had made sure I couldn’t call Mr. Maki in for help; yet, there he was. Not that I was complaining, mind you.

The orcs and goblins were right to be afraid; even I had to remind my trembling legs that he was on my side as he fell towards us.

The Divine Blade was the stuff of legend amongst the demons of the Grim Horde. To hear some talk it up, he had the strength of the Enemy himself, could hear a pin drop in India, and could fly with a thought.

The humans wished. He was a powerful wizard, but he was no Superman. His affinity, Sonic Blade, simply let him generate and manipulate soundwaves, and more than a decade of practice and battlefield experience let him do the seemingly impossible, like launch himself into the air like he was flying.

Just before he landed, he brought his meaty hands together, creating another sonic boom that sent the humans and goblins among us tumbling like leaves in a hurricane. The orcs managed to keep their feet a bit better, but they were reluctant to be the first to charge at the living legend in their midst.

Lucky for them it hadn’t been a proper attack; he was simply using the sound burst to soften his fall. How the Hell he hadn’t gone deaf was beyond me; I wondered if his affinity had somehow strengthened his eardrums.

Mr. Maki’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the situation. “Well! There’s almost enough of you to be interesting!” His booming voice assaulted our ears, especially paining the orcs, with their enhanced hearing. He gave the boast in English, possibly for my benefit.

A wave of his hand compressed a wave of sound into a concentrated blade, the maneuver that had earned him the nickname Divine Blade. The attack struck the three orcs who’d held down my compatriots, slicing the middle orc in half. The other two weren’t much better off, only their fate wasn’t quite so clean. All three fell dead, leaving Antoni, Gabriella, and Kowalski unconscious, but with intact throats.

That strike was like a signal for the others to rush in. These were Girdan’s personal guard, after all, and I doubted the old devil had much use for actual cowards.

I wanted to help, but I had my priority. Mariko’s body had already sprung to her feet, eyes blazing with anger.

“How the Hell did you contact him without me knowing?” she demanded, looming over me.

I ignored her. If she’d lost the presence of mind to carry out her threat to slay Mariko, I wasn’t going to give up a golden opportunity.

Different runes appeared around my hands. “Don’t bite your tongue.”

She cocked her head, confusion dispelling her rage. “What?”

“All Heal!”

Fera cried out again as the healing magic ran through her like an electric current. She staggered back, and whatever she shouted at me was drowned out by Mr. Maki’s efforts behind us. A burst of energy rose out of Mariko’s mouth, arcing out of sight and into the greater fracas.

I shuffled forward on hands and knees, just managing to put myself between Mariko and the hard deck. She slammed into my back, but I’d kept her from hitting her head. My stomach sank when I went to inspect her. She wasn’t breathing. The Enemy be damned, she wasn’t breathing!

I was never much for prayer; I knew that I’d burnt my bridges with anybody who’d be listening. But, as they say, there are no atheists in foxholes, and I was silently begging anybody who’d listen as I inspected her.

“Sukanabikona’s Pulse!” I forced magic into Mariko’s body, hoping to shock it back to life. The spell had failed Wendy, but Mariko was no skeleton, and this time, Fera wasn’t in there to fight back against it.

I almost thanked the Enemy when Mariko started coughing. Almost; one does have to keep up certain standards.

“Kasasagi?” she murmured.

We were interrupted by a booming cry of pain. Mr. Maki was fond of using his talents to amplify his voice in class, and it seemed he’d accidentally done so as one of the orcs breached his defenses.

“A lucky shot!” he shouted, his voice making the crowd of orcs wince.

I leapt to my feet, interposing myself between Mariko and the battle while I took stock. There were fewer orcs still standing than when he’d landed, but it was still too much for one surrounded wizard to deal with himself.

“Lovely Fireworks!” The dizzying lights flying from my fingers were harmless, but orcs prefer dimmer lights, since they are creatures of twilight. Showering the whole deck in the lightshow was enough to dazzle the green-skinned demons.

And Mr. Maki, in the bargain, but he managed to keep his feet. I got a good look at him; one of the brutes had opened a shallow cut through his enhanced uniform around the gut. Lucky for the old showboat that he tended to carry extra weight between campaigns. Once his eyes had cleared enough, he unsheathed a katana longer than his arm (and the giant of a man had rather long arms). He swung the blade as he advanced on the still recovering orcs.

Two orcs had decided to seek easier prey, though, and were rushing towards the unconscious Privates. I managed to pick one off with a Bloody Lance, but I wouldn’t be able to cast another spell before the other reached them.

At the last possible moment, a red aura surrounded the orc, and he was thrown overboard. A weight lifted from my shoulders. Miss Sato’s work, no doubt. I couldn’t see the diminutive wizard, but that was hardly surprising, given the throng of orcs between us; I’d been lucky enough to see the other attackers.

A soaking wet Hiro made his appearance shortly after, sailing through the sky to land near Mr. Maki. It didn’t seem in character for him to show off like that, and I wondered if he was simply aping the teacher’s splashy entrance. Whatever he was shouting was drowned out as Mr. Maki sent some orcs scattering with a thunderclap.

Well, all of the orcs were well occupied, and it seemed like Mr. Maki, Hiro, and Yukiko were managing to keep them off guard. I was in a position to lay into them from behind, but then I remembered that Fera had managed to slip away. She was too dangerous to leave to her own devices.

Just as I was about to turn on Mimic Sight to track her down, a hideous screech of metal on metal filled the air.

I dashed around the combatants to get a look at the source of the noise. A familiar shock of blonde hair was bolting towards the far side of the Bermuda, leaving the newly activated fabricata behind her. The top shaped device spun and glowed a bright orange as its newly charged runes went to work, assaulting the deck and sending bits of metal in all directions. Counter-runes built into the deck plates flared to life, but they were designed to deflect energy, not an enormous demonic drillbit.

Before I could even realize what I was looking at, the device had vanished. From the metallic screeching echoing from the hole, it was still hard at work on the lower deck.

Oh, Hell.