Chapter 18

“A good morning to you,” said the greying man, just visible in the late-morning sunrise. “You must be the wizards.”

“Yes, sir!”

Well, Kowalski had certainly perked up since the night before. I wished I could clear my mind so easily. I’d felt oddly self-conscious sharing a bus with Heida and Mariko at the same time, though thankfully we had ridden in silence.

Our work had brought us to a farm a half hour’s drive from Keflavik. It seemed like there were sheep and goats everywhere I looked, munching away on bales of hay and what forage was available at this time of the year. They were white, stocky things with thick wool to fight off the biting cold of the early morning.

Actually, that wasn’t a bad description of our host. He was solidly built, with a full beard and head of hair. Not the handsomest face to look at, but he looked like he was built for function rather than form. He also didn’t seem entirely happy to see us.

Heida introduced us, and the man identified himself as Brandur Otharsson. “At least they sent you out here,” he groused. “Least the government could do, considering.”

“Considering what?” asked Heida.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, they didn’t tell you? Then never mind; not like you could do anything about it. Let me show you were you’ll be working today.”

He led us to an aging pickup truck. “Don’t got room in the cabin for you all, especially the big one. You ladies want to ride up where it’s warm?”

It looked like chivalry wasn’t completely dead, which was a shame, because I sure as Hell wouldn’t benefit.

Heida took him up on the offer, but Mariko stayed with us in the truck bed. She took a seat next to me, just close enough that I could have reached out to touch her. I didn’t, of course; I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. Even if it would be much warmer…

Though it was late autumn, the hills were covered in a thick coat of vibrant grass and shrubs. Brandur took us off the main road onto a well-worn path through one of the pastures. A flock of sheep blocked our path, ignoring the farmer’s insistent honking.

Heida leaned out the window and pointed a hand towards the beasts. I smelled a whiff of cinnamon as she let loose with her Lightshow affinity. The still-dark sky was bright as noon for a moment as a replacement sun appeared right above the obstinate ungulates. The creatures scattered every which way in panic, clearing a path for us.

“Poor sheep,” murmured Mariko.

We arrived at our destination presently. Brandur parked and opened up a fence to what he called another pasturage. I doubted the assessment, though; the grass and shrubs were nearly up to my waist, and a few scraggly, naked trees made their stand against the worst the arctic wind could do to them. It must have been years since the sheep had taken a crack at this fenced off land.

Kowalski’s jaw gaped. “Can you believe this?”

“Believe what?” I asked. “That the sun still isn’t up? I’ve made my peace with living by flashlight.”

“Not that,” he said, inhaling deeply. “Smell that air! It’s so fresh and clean!”

“If you like that undertone of sheep poop,” said Heida.

“It’s natural, though. Look around, there’s nothing for kilometers! No buildings except for the farmhouse and a few barns. This is real living!”

“If you can call it living,” muttered Heida.

“Enjoy it while you can, kid,” said Brandur. “They’re taking this all to build more greenhouses.”

The way Kowalski’s shoulders slumped, one would think he’d heard his parents were getting divorced. “What do you mean, all of this?”

So much for not the farmer not complaining about his troubles. Brandur waved his hand, indicating the pasturage and the fields beyond. “Everything we just drove through just got force-sold to the government. Electricity’s the only thing that’s cheap around here, so the powers that be in the Anti-Demonic League Agriculture Board have decided that my farm’s more useful for growing exotic fruits than raising livestock.”

“How awful!” said Mariko. “There must something you can do about it.”

“Not really,” he said. “Believe me, I had a lawyer look over it. They can basically do anything they want with emergency powers these days. But, it doesn’t mean I have to bend over and like it. They told me to clear this parcel so they can build on it.” He shot us a feral grin as he stretched out. “I’d do it myself, but I’ve had a bad back lately. Pardon my language, ladies, but I must’ve strained something dealing with all the bullshit.”

Mariko gasped slightly. “You are awfully… free with your words.”.

“That’s still legal, and my lawyer friend assures me they can’t do me any worse.”

“Guessing that’s why you came by our office?” asked Heida.

Brandur nodded glumly. “If the League’s going to screw me over, I’m not lifting a finger to help. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m having some people over today to have a look at my herds. Hopefully I can get a fair price for them, at least.”

He turned to leave, but was surprised when Mariko seized one of his hands. “I am so sorry to hear that! The League never cares about who they hurt. We will do whatever we can to stop this.”

Brandur was taken aback at the pretty young woman’s touch. “That’s kind of you to say, ma’am, but I’ve made my peace.” He squinted at her hand in the dim light. “You’re shivering like a newborn lamb!”

Mariko withdrew her hand, a look of shame on her face. “Oh, that isn’t—”

“I’ll get you all something hot to drink. Least I can do.” With that he got in his truck, his taillights vanishing behind one of the rolling hills.

“Good job, Mariko,” said Heida. “You just scored us some coffee.”

“I was not out to ‘score’ us anything,” she replied. “You are too calm about this! That man’s home is being taken away!”

It occurred to me that Soren Marlowe ought to have been more outraged. “It is a tragedy, but I’m not sure that we can do anything about it.”

“Listen,” said Heida, “he’s getting paid for his land and livestock. He can go make himself a better life.”

“But this is…” Kowalski trailed off, scanning the fields. “This is what the Horde does, isn’t it? The League shouldn’t be forcing anybody else out of their homelands.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” said Heida. “He’s still going to be in Iceland. Now he can find a better job. Also, word to the wise: you don’t want to go around badmouthing the League in front of mundanes. It isn’t good for your career.”

“Do you think I care about my career?” asked Mariko. “The League and the Corps pressed me into service and ruined my life.”

Heida sighed. “Nobody likes military service, but it’s only five years for us women. That’s why you want the higher ups to like you, or else you’ll get sent right to the front lines.”

“That isn’t…”

I cut Mariko off with a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t productive; we have bigger worries right now.”

Buddy had emerged, taking a form a bit like one of the squat goats we’d passed. His interpretation had more elaborate, wicked horns. He gave Heida a dangerous look, mirroring Kowalski’s own pique. The blonde woman didn’t seem to notice at all. It would fall on me to stop an incident.

“Hey, Buddy,” I said, hunkering down to the shadowy goat’s level. “You like eating things, right? Want to go try grazing for a bit while we think up a plan?”

Buddy shook his horned head, locking his gaze back on Heida.

She finally noticed. “Hey, what’s your affinity doing, Kowalski?”

“N-nothing,” he stammered. “Right, Buddy? We don’t want to cause any problems today.”

Buddy respectfully disagreed, and he pawed at the earth with a razor-sharp hoof.

Golem or no, he’s taking his cues from Kowalski; I doubt a shadowy beast would really care about land management. If he won’t listen, let’s confuse him. “Rafal.”

Kowalski and Buddy both turned to face me, surprise written on their faces. “What’d you just call me?”

“What, it’s your name, isn’t it?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yes, but you never—”

“Rafal,” I repeated, pointing at the field, “I think we could use a good idea of how much territory we’re clearing. How about you go pace out this overgrown section?”

He peered into the predawn gloom. “Yeah, good idea. I can’t see the end of this field!”

“Of course it’s a good idea; it’s mine, after all.” I kept my tone cool; I didn’t want him think I was getting too friendly, after all. He set off, counting as he went. Buddy got into the act; he projected a dark square that looked a bit like a chalkboard from his chest, adding a tick mark with every step.

“What was that about?” demanded Heida. “Was that shady thing going to pounce me?”

“He tends to express what Rafal does not want to,” said Mariko.

“I-I see,” she said, a shiver passing through her. “So, who else is in favor of fire?”

“For the field or for Buddy?” I asked.

“Whichever we need,” she replied. “I meant the field, though.”

“That could work,” I said. “Though it’s a bit damp this morning; it might not spread.”

“What if we brought those sheep you scared before to graze it?” asked Mariko.

“No, they’d take days,” said the blonde. “Besides, the grass is tall enough that we could lose some of them in there, and that farmer is grumpy enough.”

I ran through the spells I knew, and ones I had seen Wizard Corpsmen use against me in England. After all, Heida was a graduate; she should have known plenty of human spells I didn’t have access to yet.

“What about Reaper’s Scythe?” That wasn’t in the first-year curriculum, but I had the scars on my ankles to prove it could be effective.

“Crowd control spells? That could do the trick.” Runes circled Heida’s fingers, collapsing into a golden, half-moon energy blade. “Reaper’s Scythe!”

Of course, there was a reason the spell had left scars, rather than severing my ankles. It was designed to force back opponents when a wizard was being overwhelmed. Reinforcing it to the same extent as Svalinn’s Wrath would make it expensive to cast, so its range and durability were limited. Even fighting blades of grass, it ran out of steam quickly. Before it has passed more than ten feet ahead, it had collapsed into a shower of magical sparks.

“It certainly cut down the grass,” observed Mariko.

“Sure, but that isn’t going to work,” said Heida, walking through the small clearing she’d made. It started off as wide as her arm span, but it had narrowed down to a point at the end, making a shape like an inverted cone. “We’d have to cast it hundreds of times to make a dent, and I bet I’m the only one here who knows it.”

Seeing an opportunity to show off for the lady, I brushed past her, mimicking her motions perfectly. “Reaper’s Scythe!”

I put more ‘oomph’ into my spell as well; I had better magical reserves than most humans, so I could afford it. It travelled twice as far into the overgrown field, but it had the same results in the end.

Heida blinked in surprise. “What, did they change the curriculum since I graduated?”

“It isn’t that complicated of a spell,” I said.

“That is Soren’s affinity, Mimic,” said Mariko. “He can copy any spells he sees for a time. It makes tutoring him a challenge, since it prevents him from truly learning the spell until he forgets what he saw.”

I chuckled instead of glaring at Mariko. Of course she’d try to deflate me in front of the competition. “That it does.”

“Oh, good. I was worried I’d fallen behind. Anyway, even with the two of us, Reaper’s Scythe won’t do the trick by itself. Next idea?”

“Fireball!” I shouted, igniting a beachball sized section of air in front of me.

Heida shrieked in surprise and covered her head. “Not while we’re in it, you idiot!” She stayed frozen for a moment before chancing a look upwards. “Wait, what?”

I hadn’t aimed the flaming ball at the brush; instead, it hung in the air high enough to illuminate the area around us. “It’s a variant my… my ex showed me. I’m told it comes in handy on camping trips. I figure we should see what we’re up against here.”

I took a few steps into the brush to get a better lay of the land. Even with the light, I tripped over something solid. “Bloody Hell!”

“Soren!” The two women cried out in near unison and ran up.

“I’m alright,” I muttered, pulling myself upright. I yanked the offended obstacle out of the earth and held it up for inspection. “It looks like Brandur used the fallow field for more than he let on. I believe this was a bicycle frame a few years of rust ago.”

Heida looked at the filthy metal tubing with visible disgust. “Note to self, we need to get you a tetanus booster. Heck, I’ll take one while we’re at it.”

“A what booster?”

“Seriously, what was your cult called?” asked Heida, her tone somewhere between annoyed and playful.

“Ara,” said Mariko. “A cult?”

“Never you mind,” I said. “We’ll need to do something about this junk.”

“Let me try,” said Mariko. Taking it from my hand, she concentrated her own, little-used affinity. Bits of the ruined bike flaked away like burning newspaper. Slowly at first, and then all at once, it simply vanished.

Heida’s blue eyes widened. “That’s a neat tr—”

A loud bang interrupted the quiet of the early morning, and the floating fireball flashed a bright orange before it was completely snuffed out.

Months of fighting in England had given me an intense… respect for unexpected explosions. “Loftshilt!” My hands and tongue moved without my leave, hurling jagged demonic runes through the air, collapsing to create a domed, blood red barrier over our heads.

“Get down!” I grabbed both women around the waist, knocking them to the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut, ready for the inevitable barrage that would follow.

Nothing. The only sounds were my heart pounding in my ears and our ragged breathing.

“What was that?” demanded Heida.

Then I remembered I wasn’t in England, and I’d just used a demonic spell in front of Heida and Mariko.

“Um, Kasasagi? Can we get up?”

I realized there were laying shoulder to shoulder, with me on my hands and knees above them. “Y-yes, of course,” I said, dispelling the magic barrier with a snap of my fingers. I helped them both up with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, I was startled. Where the dickens did that explosion come from?”

The area had darkened again, but I could still see the suspicion in Heida’s eyes. She took a step back, putting up her hands in the position to cast a Magic Bolt.

“Now I know what kind of cult it was, demonkin!”