By all rights, that should have been the end of me. If I thought of the Enemy as being anything other than, well, the Enemy, I might have suspected that He had intervened.

Being a rational man, I can see the truth in hindsight. Wizards can’t create matter out of nothing, and Ruhspont involves gathering trace gases from the air and combining them with water vapor to form the acid, which is why it’s such a complicated spell. We were hundreds of feet off the ground on a dry August day, so I had just spent most of the available stock of both on my oversized Rough Spout, leaving Maggie with pitiful dregs to work with.

I didn’t appreciate it much at the time. Even the thin stream of watered-down acid splashing across my chest was agonizing. I doubled over, and I only kept my hands off my chest through an act of will. Ruhspont isn’t improved by smearing it around or getting it on one’s fingers. That only spreads the damage, and I’d seen enough human wizards make that mistake. An All Heal was in order; shame I didn’t have the wherewithal to make it happen.

Instead, I put my hands to better use, levering myself back onto my feet. I could barely see straight, much less focus on a spell. I wished I’d had some whiskey to dull the pain, or those delightful human painkillers I’d heard so much about. By Our Father Below, was this how Mariko’s whole arm had felt? No wonder her handwriting was still sloppy.

Maggie was occupied with glaring at her hands like they had betrayed her. Seeing the movement out of the corner of her eyes, she snapped to attention, watching me cautiously. She must have thought I was still in fit shape to fight.

Well, I hated to let a lady down, even the wicked ones. Especially the wicked ones. “That was the worst Ruhspont I’ve ever seen,” I said, managing to keep the lingering pain out of my voice. All of those jokes about Rough Spout I’d traded with my demonic fellows didn’t seem as funny anymore, but I’d live.

At least I was in better shape than the roof’s asphalt. My Rough Spout had eaten a hole wide and deep enough that I could have completely hidden myself in it, if not for the jagged wires and piping I had exposed. Maggie stepped away from the deathtrap, half-formed runes dancing around her fingers.

I rolled my eyes; I had seen that bluff a few times in England. “Are you pretending you still have magic to spare? Who are you kidding? It can’t be much, with all of the acid you’ve been throwing around.”

“You aren’t in any better shape,” she snapped. “I never thought you’d put up so much of a fight.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. If we’d both been fresh, I’d have had you in an instant. You’re lucky you had friends to whittle me down. It’s time to end this.”

Maggie cupped her ear, cursing under her breath. If I strained, I could just make out police sirens in the distance. I reached into my pocket and shut off the technology jamming fabricata. No sense stalling my reinforcements.

“You know it’s pointless,” she said. “No matter who wins, we’re not in any shape to escape. What do you say to a truce? We might be able to slip out if we work together.”

“I say don’t insult my intelligence,” I snarled. “Even if I could trust you, you killed my Kiyo.”

“Darn, I was hoping I could get you to turn your back on me.” She settled into a defensive pose, blowing an errant strand of red hair out of her vision.

“You’d have made a fantastic devil,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll pay for that.”

I considered my options. Ideally, I’d want to blind her with a brilliant spell, but her mask would negate that. I could have tried closing in and tagging her with Electrify, since one touch could have downed her. However, I decided I was too unsteady on my feet to close the gap before she launched her own attack. Bloody Lance was the best option; the Dark Lord knew I had enough pent-up anger to supplement my flagging magical reserves.

On some unseen signal, Maggie and I both started casting.

“Baha-”

I thought I saw a glimpse of movement behind Maggie, a barely seen phantom. I didn’t want to hope. It couldn’t be; she was gone, wasn’t she? It was the blood loss, I told myself. Playing tricks with my eyes.

What if I was wrong, though?

I didn’t dare fire if there was the least chance it was Kiyo. “-dour!” The words had already left my lips, but I twisted my hand upward, sending the bolt of crackling, red hatred sailing harmlessly over Maggie’s head.

“Fireball!” Maggie had no such disadvantage, and she had me dead to rights.

“Svalinn’s Mercy!” Kiyo shimmered back into sight as she threw up the shield in front of me. It was a bit malformed, but she’d been in a rush. The flames dissipated harmlessly against the energy barrier.

Kiyo staggered, clutching her head. “Crap, how do you make a million of those all the time?”

Damnation! She’d chosen a Hell of a time to succumb to Wizard’s Desolation.

Maggie started at the unexpected voice, but she was quick to take advantage of Kiyo’s sorry state. Kiyo didn’t put up much resistance as Maggie seized the smaller woman, stealing Kiyo’s own short sword to hold to her throat.

“Hands up, Magpie,” said Maggie.

“Kiyo? What are you doing here?” It’s strange to be relieved and annoyed at the same time. My heart felt lighter knowing she was okay, but

“I got the headmaster to try and get you out of that glass,” said Kiyo. “You were already gone, and then there was this fire, then he sent me ahead to help.” Her shield failed as her magic reserves cratered. She was still conscious, but I couldn’t count on any cooperation from her. “D-didn’t think I was running that low.”

“I thought you said I’d killed her. Oh well, plenty of time to fix that.” Maggie’s arm tensed, ready to draw the blade across her throat.

“Wait!” Knowing Maggie, I tried to sound as piteous as I could.

A wicked grin split her face. “Why should I?” I had guessed right; Maggie would want to draw out my misery.

“She doesn’t deserve any of this,” I said. “I’m the one who spoiled your big plan.”

Maggie scoffed at that. “She most certainly does! She’s been a constant thorn in the Holy Brotherhood’s side. Making you miserable when I execute her is just a bonus.”

Kiyo’s eyes widened in terror, but she was helpless to resist.

I grit my teeth, my mind racing as I searched for the words to save us both. I had to get them separated so I could blast Maggie, but my exhausted body and aching, pockmarked chest told me they weren’t up for any more acrobatics.

Then it hit me; I didn’t have to save us both. I was already doomed, after all. Even if I could have slipped out and met with Dante, I had failed in my mission. A lifetime under Fera and Girdan’s bootheel would be worse than a few months of torture at the hands of the League. Kiyo could still be saved, though.

“Do you think the Brotherhood is going to have any use for you after today? You’ve managed to get two attack squads wiped out under your watch! Even if you could take out Tachibana in your state and convince the League you had been one of the hostages, we know you would wake up with a knife in your back. It’s the end of the road for you, my dear.”

Maggie tensed. “Then why shouldn’t I take her with me?”

“Uh, Magpie, you aren’t helping,” said Kiyo, her gaze fixed on the sword.

I continued my sales pitch, undeterred. “Unless you do what I say, that is. You have a bargaining chip in your grasp that the League will pay dearly for.”

“You’re the only one that cares about Jones,” spat Maggie. “Plenty of defective wizards where she came from.”

“Bitch,” muttered Kiyo.

I tapped my chest, wincing as my Rough Spout wounds flared up. “No, not her. Me. You wanted my true name? Fine.” I bowed theatrically, raising myself up halfway to give Maggie my best leer. “I am Malthus the Younger, son of the Dark Lord’s Grand Vizier, Malthus the Elder. Lately from Pandemonium, formerly a Captain of the Grim Horde. A half-devil who’s been under your nose this whole time.”