Prologue

From the Desk of Soren Marlowe

Thursday, April 19th, 2124

Here continue the confessions of Soren Marlowe, known to most as the Magpie Wizard, and to a select few as Malthus the Younger of the demonic Grim Horde.

As I look back on the end of 2050, I think even the prudes who blanch at the least mention of my people’s home would agree I’d had one Hell of a year. In less than a calendar year, I’d gone from being a conquering hero of the Grim Horde to working for the hated Anti-Demonic League and their pet Wizard Corps. That’s not even mentioning my stint with those Holy Brotherhood terrorists, though I think I’ve spilled quite enough ink on that error in judgement. Still, I couldn’t claim it had been a boring time.

Sometimes I’m mad enough to wish for that sort of danger to come back into my life. Compared to those days, my dotage has been extremely uniform. One day seems much like the others, which is part of why I decided to start writing these memoirs in the first place. The house seems a bit too much for my needs, now. Some have even suggested I sell it off and move into a retirement home to free up the property for a larger family. It’s still war time, they tell me. Also, you have the money and privilege to have red meat and whiskey on the regular, when so many go without, they tell me. Wouldn’t it be better to downsize and give some of my military pension to charity?

They really don’t know who they’re talking to! I’ll be damned if I give it all up. Not after the nonsense I went through to earn it! My tenner in the Wizard Corps wasn’t any less ridiculous or dangerous than my one and only year as a student at the Nagoya Academy of Magic. So, I’ll take up more space, run the heater as warm as I like, and eat environmentally wasteful red meat to go with my doctor-condemned half bottle of whiskey every night if I so please. The medicos claim I don’t have too many years left if I don’t change my ways anyhow, so I won’t be their problem much longer.

What can I say? Even as forcibly softened as I’ve been by human kindness, I’m still a devil.

Not that my countrymen would acknowledge me as such. Me, the son of Grand Vizier Malthus the Elder, a bloody Wizard Corpsman! If I’d been back home, I was sure Father would have died of shame. Or, perhaps, seen to it that I’d died for his shame.

Of course, I was still within their reach in the human realms. After all, we’d just had to fight off Mulciber, the winged mutant demon. If there were more where he came from, then my doom could have swooped down from above at any moment.

Even more than the constant fear of having my devilhood exposed, that thought kept me up at night. The humans’ great advantage against the waves of spell-slinging devils and our lesser demon thralls had always been air and naval superiority. The ability to turn a lower-caste devil into a living weapon that could fly across the sea and wreak havoc was a gamechanger. I’d already worried that I had fallen in with the losing side in this war, but now the fall could be measured in years rather than decades.

Thankfully, I had plenty of things to keep me busy besides free-floating anxiety. The love of a good woman, for instance. If Mariko Yamada was idiotic enough to tolerate a demon in her bed, I wasn’t about to question my good fortune. She was a greater fool than most of the humans I’d met, but it was a most delightful foolishness. Not like my own idiotic streak; I swear, there’s something in the demonic heart that wants to spoil anything that smacked of holiness or goodness. I’d take another stab as self-destruction soon enough.

However, neither of us were the greatest fools that November afternoon…

Chapter 1

Keflavik, Iceland

Tuesday, November 29th, 2050

The scene in the military base’s carport was enough to induce diabetes.

“I’ll miss you more,” said Lilja.

“No way! I’ll miss you more,” said Kowalski.

“No, I’ll miss you more,” said Lilja.

“Nuh uh, I’ll miss you more,” countered Kowalski.

Can one die of secondhand embarrassment? If not, I wished I could. The two lovebirds had carried on that way the whole drive from old man Bryndísar’s farm to the capitol. I had been a bit surprised he hadn’t come to see off his other daughter, Heida. Had he foreseen this treacly nonsense? He was a canny man if he had.

Perhaps he’d simply had the sense to stay in out of the cold. I shivered, pulling up the collar of my white and green Wizard Corps cadet uniform. The late autumn in Iceland would have been a winter anywhere else I’d lived. A fresh coat of snow had delayed our journey out of the countryside until after sunrise. Not that after sunrise was so impressive; this far north, the days were damn short, and getting shorter by the day.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Speaking of the elder Bryndísardóttir sister, we seemed to be on the same wavelength about how those two were carrying on. She’d mostly kept quiet and focused on driving, but now that we’d arrived at the military base south of Keflavik, her expression had grown sourer and sourer.

It was a pity, since Heida Bryndísardóttir was a vision, whatever else I might have to say about her. She reminded me of the Valkyries in a picture book I had once read: tall, imposing, blonde, and curvaceous. Her high-cheeked face wasn’t one made for smiles, which made them seem more special when she graced you with one. She was also a good lay; not quite as skilled as a devilmaid lady of the evening, but it’s unfair to compare an enthusiastic amateur with a professional.

Mariko would have disapproved of my assessment, given how those two had bickered over me during our extended stay at Bryndísar’s farm. I might have been taken, but I wasn’t blind. Besides, what did Ms. Yamada have to worry about? I’d picked her, after all, even if I was sure she’d see her horrible mistake any minute.

Heida’s piercing blue eyes glared daggers at the lovebirds as she spoke, breaking me out of my reverie. “God,” said Heida, making me flinch at the Enemy’s title, “I’m going to end up with Rafal as my brother-in-law if this keeps up.”

“Seems that way,” I said.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” asked Mariko. The Japanese woman’s head rested on my shoulder as she kept a grip on my arm. Mariko was a touchy person, but I sensed she was marking her territory. “Rafal is a sweet boy and a hard worker.”

Heida pursed her lips as she weighed the question. “Well… he seemed to actually like living out on that farm. I guess Lilja can’t run the whole thing alone.”

“It does take some off the pressure off of you,” I said, giving Mariko’s hand a good squeeze.

Mariko returned the gesture, but her face didn’t soften. “Rafal nearly died protecting us all against Mol. He has earned more respect than that.”

Heida shrugged. “Can’t disagree with you, there, but still. He’s just so… dull.”

“But they are so cute together,” said Mariko. “Kasasagi, back me up.”

“They certainly do match,” I replied. Lilja was Heida’s spitting image, only brunette and taller than me. Kowalski was a brute of a man and had more than his share of gut, though much of his bulk had switched from baby fat to muscle with his military training and hard labor at the farm.

Another shrug from Heida. “I can’t say I see the appeal. Then again, I don’t understand most people’s tastes.” She punctuated the statement with a meaningful look at Mariko and I.

“Thankfully, they aren’t yours to understand,” I said, slipping an arm around Mariko’s waist and drawing her in for a quick peck on the cheek. I couldn’t let her have all the fun with the territory marking, after all.

Mariko’s face reddened. “Kasasagi, not in front of everyone. People will get the wrong idea!”

Considering the way we’d carried on that the farmhouse, what wrong idea could they possibly get now? It turned out that sound-deadening spells can give away more than noise itself. It had been a tad embarrassing when we realized everyone knew.

I glanced down at her lovely, bespectacled face. Definitely worth it.

I wasn’t the only riding the rails of that train of thought. Heida’s eye twitched, and then she shrugged again. She was trying awfully hard to act blasé. Then again, if she was more forthright, I might not have dumped her. “So, what’s next for you, Corpsman Marlowe?”

By the Dark Lord’s horns, that would never not sound strange. “In the short term? We were told to convene here and wait for orders. I haven’t the foggiest idea in the long term.”

“Hurry up and wait, eh?” Heida sighed, though she didn’t shrug this time. “I’m heading back up to Reykjavik. You still killed those demonkin Beckers, and Henrik and Asahi have still been taking their place as reservists. I’m guessing I’m going to free up the Divine Blade for more important duties.”

“That does not sound so bad,” said Mariko, sparing a smile for her former rival. “You two always worked together, and you seemed to get on.”

“There won’t be as many wild goose chases, either,” I said. “No more jumping at shadows when some local thinks he’s seen a troll in the garden.”

Heida chuckled at that. “But those were so much fun! People really come up with the most creative crap. It kept us out of trouble, too.”

“Maybe,” I said, “but after facing down a real monster, that was bound to be dull. You’re ready for bigger things.”

I could feel Mariko’s shoulders slump at the mention of Mulciber. The bleeding heart’s feelings about our battle to the death against the mutant devil were still decidedly mixed. Never mind it had been him or us; sympathy for devils was all part of that delightful foolishness she brought to the table.

Heida’s eyes narrowed. “You really think so, don’t you?”

I tried to look reassuring. “I don’t think so; I know so. You had the chance to escape and instead you came riding in on mackie-back to save us. You’ll do fine.”

Heida let out a full-throated laugh at that. “Yup, no accounting for taste, or judgement.” Her wink told me she was mostly kidding. Mostly. “Hey, Yamada. Good luck taking care of Magpie; you’ll need it, the way he attracts trouble.”

Mariko gave Heida a more respectful bow than I’d expected. “I shall. You need not worry. I wish you well, too.”

“Sure you do,” said Heida, shaking her head.

Knowing Mariko, she really did mean it. Not that Heida could readily accept that.

I turned my attention back to Kowalski and Lilja, who seemed to have finally reached the end of their conversation loop.

“And promise me you’ll call me every day,” said Lilja, her arms managing to reach around Kowalski’s chest to meet on his back.

“If I can,” he said. “I don’t know where they’ll send me, or if they’ll even have phone service. You understand, right?”

Lilja nodded once, and I noticed that the giantess’ eyes were dewy. “Yes, I do. Pabbi was a wizard too, after all. God, ten years until you’re out. That’s an eternity! Be safe, okay?”

Rafal Kowalski had not been burdened by his creator with a surplus of quick wit, but his silent nod spoke volumes while he gathered his words. “I’ll do my best. I have you to come back to, after all.”

Oh, that was smooth. It earned him a kiss on the lips as Lilja gripped his enchanted uniform firmly enough to activate its protective magic. If she noticed the white wool go as hard as steel, she gave no sign.

“Yup,” said Heida, her deep frown returning. “Definitely going to have him as my brother-in-law.”