Chapter 16

Shortly after, I strode into the Starlight club. The lights were dimmed except for the stage, which was perfect for being absent without leave. A group of performers were dressed in a strange style that seemed too intentional to be an accident. They wore well-fitted suits and ties, and they all four wore some flavor of bowl-cuts. I was fairly certain those were wigs. It felt like a joke I wasn’t privy to. They played well, though the lyrics needed some work. A yellow submarine? What rubbish.

I turned my attention to what really mattered, and I spotted her at a table on the other side of the room. “Good evening, my dear!”

“Hey, Magpie. I’m surprised you called,” said Heida.

“A pleasant surprise, I hope,” I replied.

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have picked up,” she said.

“Were you already going out? I hope I didn’t interrupt your plans.”

“I go out every night I can,” she said. “I’m just doing this with you instead of alone.”

“Ah, that makes sense. I doubted you were wearing that to lounge around the house. Is that a dirndl?” She wore a low-cut white blouse that was partially transparent at the sleeves, paired with a dark red pinafore. On her head sat a round black hat with a tassel, making me think of a squat fez.

“Sort of our version of that. I won’t waste the name on you; you’re pretty awful at pronouncing Icelandic.”

“Try me,” I said.

“Þjóðbúningurinn.”

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” I said.

“It’s a bit of a mouthful, but it’s traditional clothing,” she replied, adjusting herself and drawing my eyes downwards. She shot me a wry grin when I made eye contact again. “You’re so easy, Magpie. I swear, you’re obsessed with tits.”

“Is that new information to you?” I asked. “Besides, I doubt that’s the traditional neckline. Hardly seems practical for the climate.”

“It’s the traditional neckline when I want somebody to buy me drinks,” she countered.

“Now that’s a tradition I can get behind.” In the background, the musicians changed songs to something about an octopus’ garden. “These lyrics are complete nonsense. Do these songs mean something in Icelandic that I’m not getting?”

Heida looked at me like I’d regrown my long-lost horns. “You’re English, right?”

“O-of course,” I said, betraying my worries about discovery. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“What kind of an Englishman doesn’t know the Beatles when he hears them?”

“The who?”

“No, the Beatles are a completely different group.” She looked at me expectantly, but I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say. “Screw you, that was hilarious. Anyway, surely you know something about them. The Fab Four? George Harrison? Paul McCartney?” There was a mix of surprise and pity in her blue eyes. “No response. Wow, you’ve really never heard of them before!”

“I had a sheltered upbringing,” I said, worried that somehow, this was going to be what made my story fall apart. “Mother and Father weren’t much for pop culture.”

Heida snorted. “Pop culture? The Beatles aren’t mere pop culture! Pop culture is whatever’s in the top forty or trending online. The Beatles are classics. They’re your heritage as an Englishman, Soren! That’s almost child abuse.”

“My, you certainly feel passionately about this. I see why you wanted to meet here.”

She nodded. “This isn’t even the best cover band I’ve heard at this restaurant.” She shook her head wistfully. “An Englishman who hasn’t even heard of the Beatles. I knew there was something wrong with you.”

“Truly, I’m a wounded soul. Take pity on this poor, benighted man, and teach me.”

“I’ll need a lot more alcohol to get over that trauma,” she said, flagging down a waiter. “You’re good for it, right?”

“My backpay finally came in,” I said.

“Perfect!” She said something in Icelandic to the waiter and pointed at the pricier section of the drink menu.

I wept internally for my only recently-filled wallet, but I kept up a brave face. It’s simply how the game was played, both back in Pandemonium and the human realms. It’s nice that we have something in common after all.

“Enough about me; tell me about yourself,” I said.

“What do you want to know?”

“Somebody trustworthy just told me I was abused as a child,” I said. “Tell me what a non-deprived childhood is like. Please? So I can imagine.”

“Hard pass,” she said. “I’m here to have fun, not talk about home. Don’t bring up work, either. It’s been miserable lately.” She blew a brief raspberry. “That Mariko chick is trouble. Everything takes twice as long when you actually look for the monsters.”

“She’s an earnest girl,” I said, treading carefully. I didn’t want to make any more enemies; the Dark Lord knew I had enough of those.

“Wow, you’re right in the middle of that fence. You should go into politics!” I thought she had rebuked me, but her confident grin told me she meant it in good fun. “Wait, I’m breaking my own rules. No more work.”

“So you don’t want to bring up work, and you don’t want to talk about your past,” I said. “What would you like to discuss?”

“Nothing heavy,” she said, taking a glass of something dark and delicious smelling from the returning waiter. I ordered one of my own; no sense abusing my wallet only for her sake. “Life’s too short to get bogged down.”

“Read any good books lately?” I asked.

“I’m more into movies,” she said. “Oh, sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. I enjoy these magical things called the ‘moving pictures’, which are like stage plays, but somebody records them on a camera. Oh, and a camera is—”

“Hah, hah,” I said, cutting her off. “I bloody well know what a movie is. And before you ask, video games too.”

“Good, I thought I was talking to a caveman for a minute there,” she said. “What kinds of books do you read?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” I said. “I have a feeling you’re only going to tease me for my reading choices. I prefer to be a net exporter of mockery, thank you very much.”

“Now I have to know,” she said. “What are you reading right now? I promise not to make fun of it, unless it’s really funny.”

“All Creatures Great and Small,” I said. She looked on with a lack of comprehension. “It’s the memoirs of a British country veterinarian before World War II.”

“That’s a bit random,” she said. “What brought you to that?”

Because I could relate to somebody coming into a strange community and taking time to put down roots? Because Girdan the Fair’s hodge-podge library in France had only had the French translation of the third book in the series, and I finally had a chance to read the rest?

“It reminded me of home,” I said, slipping into character. “I grew up on the family farm.” It was a bit of backstory I’d invented, and now I was stuck with it. No sense being inconsistent at this point.

Heida winced. “Sounds miserable. You must have felt so trapped.” Before I could reply, she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! You grew up in one of those anti-technology cults! You don’t know anything about modern music, you read old books by choice, and you talk like an old man sometimes.”

“You aren’t too far off, my dear,” I said. “Is there anything else you’d like to mock me for?”

“I don’t like to kick a man when he’s down,” she said.

“You say that, but you’ve been playing footsie with me since I started talking about the book. What is that but a slow-motion kick?”

She chuckled again. Heida Bryndísardóttir had an infectious laugh, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “Oh, good. I was starting to worry that was the table leg. You have a heck of a poker face.”

“I wasn’t sure how to read the signal,” I said, betraying a bit of truth. I’d overstepped my bounds with human girls often enough to be a bit gun shy. I didn’t want her to be the next Rose.

She settled back in her seat and let out an annoyed grunt. “If I have to explain, I’m not doing it right.”

“Please, tell this poor country bumpkin what it means when a sophisticated city woman does that?” If I’d read her correctly, she was the sort of woman who liked to think she was driving things. A little self-deprecation would help seal the deal.

She leaned forward, propping herself up to expose the most décolletage. “It means that I’m thinking I might show you my apartment and expose you to some real culture.”

“I’d love to have you broaden my horizons. You have my gratitude.”

“Just like I’m grateful that you’re covering the bill,” she said, requesting the check.

Once I did the conversion from Króna to Yen, my eyes bulged out of my head. Still, I paid the tab without complaint. I had encountered this before on a date with Kiyo in Tokyo; whatever prices I’d grown used to in the Nagoya Tower or Fort Flamel were heavily subsidized. The real world was an expensive place to live.

Heida threw on a thick jacket and hooked her elbow into mine as we made our way out of the restaurant. She knew the way, and she subtly guided me as we made our way through the town.

Our path took us through a row of watering holes, a different flavor of music emanating from each. There was more rock and roll that reminded me of the Beatles cover band, jazz, and something cacophonous that sounded like an orc being tortured on the rack while guitars screamed in the background. That’s where we spotted a pair of uniformed wizards I’d never met before milling about. Both were sturdily built young men in their mid-twenties with dark hair, thick beards, and heavy brow-ridges.

“I thought you and Henrik were the only wizards assigned to Keflavik,” I whispered.

“We are,” said Heida. “They might have come into town from the capitol.”

Recognition dawned in their eyes instantly, and they crossed the street towards us.

“Hey you! Stop right there!”

“Yeah, get over here!”

They were on us in a moment. Looking for some clue, I spotted a familiar campaign pin on the left wizard’s chest. It showed an image of Big Ben; I’d seen it on Mr. Maki’s uniform before. My guts churned and I felt sweat on my brow, despite the freezing temperature.

They fought during the fall of London. There was a chance we had met before, back when I’d been Captain Malthus. How they could have recognized me from across the street was a mystery. I would have bolted if Heida hadn’t been on my arm.

“It’s him alright,” said the left wizard.

“Yeah, that Magpie Wizard guy! The last man out of England!” said his companion.

In my panic, I hadn’t noticed that they wore broad, toothy grins. I blamed the beards for obscuring their faces.

“Do you know them?” asked Heida.

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” I said. “And yes, they do call me Magpie, though I prefer Soren. This is Heida. Might I have your names?”

“I’m Hans Becker, and this is my kid brother, Mark,” he said. “I can’t believe we ran into you all the way out here! We thought you’d still be in Japan.”

“Picked a good time to cash in our three-day pass,” said Mark.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” I said. “Why would you know who I am?”

“Listen to this guy, Mark,” said Hans, clapping me on the back. Dealing with Mr. Maki had given me a better tolerance, so I didn’t so much as budge. “Like his face wasn’t on the news for two weeks straight after that Tower Attack!”

“Oh, th-that’s right, it was,” I said.

Heida pinched me. “I keep telling him that fake humble act is annoying.”

“I’m just shy,” I said.

“You’ve got nothing to be shy about,” said Mark. “You’re a hero, man! Thanks for saving our alma mater. Hey, is Asahi Maki still teaching over there?”

“He sure is,” I said. “He’s even up here keeping a watch on some of us second year cadets.”

“Hah, I bet he was fuming when the Holy Brothers held the whole student body hostage.” Mark sighed wistfully. “Mein Gott, I wish I’d been there fighting instead of freezing my ass off up here. It sounded exciting!”

“I wish you had, too! You would have been a great help,” I said, relaxing slightly. I was going to have to accept that I was a known quantity among wizards. My blood pressure would thank me.

“Would you and your lady like to join us for a drink?” asked Hans.

“On us, of course,” added Mark. “And we won’t take no for an answer!”

“I’m afraid we have a… prior engagement.” I nodded meaningfully at the lady on my arm. “And work in the morning.”

“You’re on a three-day pass. You’ll still be in town Friday, right?” asked Heida. “You can treat us then.”

“Sounds wonderful,” said Hans, seeming to accept Heida’s attempt to worm her way into a free night out. “Bring Asahi with you, and the other cadets, too. We’ll meet back here in the evening.”

That concerned me. For one, even across the street, the deep bass emanating from within sounded like a stampeding mammoth. The bigger worry was that I’d have to explain to Mr. Maki how I’d met these two wizards, which would mean admitting I’d gone out without permission.

“That… music.” I struggled to label that audio assault as such, but I didn’t want to risk annoying my patrons. “It wouldn’t be conducive to conversation. Maybe we could try the Starlight instead?’

Heida seemed to be a step ahead of me. She handed them a business card from her purse. “Swing by our office tomorrow and invite him yourself. And maybe keep it to yourselves that you met us tonight.”

Hans chuckled at that. “Oh, are you absent without leave?”

“Not exactly, but I took advantage of the fact I wasn’t explicitly ordered to stay home,” I said. “I’d rather not give Mr. Maki a chance to force the issue.”

“Asahi’s been all over people’s SatoChat feeds wandering around town,” said Mark. “We’ll say we saw him there.”

“Good, we have our stories straight,” I said. “We’ll see you Friday.”

We bade our goodbyes. Heida led me off the main strip into a long row of identical concrete buildings. The signs all changed from Icelandic to a blocky script that reminded me of the Japanese characters Yukiko and Mariko had tried drilling into my head.

“You live here?”

Heida shrugged. “The rent in Little Korea was cheap. I only use it to sleep and store my stuff, so it saves more money for my nights out.”

“I’m surprised you have to worry about expenses,” I said as I held open the door for her. “You’re wearing the traditional dress to make others pay for you.”

“I don’t invite just anyone home.” We wound our way through a cramped hallway. It felt oddly empty, until I checked my phone and realized the hour.

“Only the most handsome ones, clearly,” I said. “You have good taste.”

“No, it’s the ones who can make me laugh,” she said. “I need it these days.”

“Is something the matter?”

She shook her head. “No, no, no. We’re not talking about anything heavy.”

Her studio apartment was colder than the hallways, and they hadn’t exactly been balmy. Her bed took up the center of the room and did double duty as a couch in front of a TV.

“I won’t be able to stay too long,” I said. “They’ll notice if I’m not there in the morning.”

Her jacket slid to the ground. “Then why are you wasting time talking?”

She was on me in a moment. I was too used to dating featherweights like Kiyo; I had thought to pick Heida up and carry her into bed, but that proved to be a challenge with this veritable Valkyrie. Instead, I satisfied myself with unwrapping my present as I guided her over.

“Be careful,” she gasped. “This is my favorite outfit.”

“I can be gentle,” I replied.

“Not too gentle, I hope,” she said, taking a break from kissing my neck.

“You’re so picky,” I said, throwing her blouse onto a small table near the kitchenette. Her skirt followed shortly after as I pushed her onto the bed. For the first time since I’d met her, there was no defiant spark in her eyes. That had been replaced with simple desire. “No worries, my dear. I always aim to please.”