Chapter 2

I took a detour on my way to meet with the Smiths, going back to my spartan dorm room to change into my cadet uniform. If the Smiths were going to question my loyalty to the Wizard Corps and the whole Anti-Demonic League again, I’d make it as awkward for them as I could. I even added the half-cape and beret you only saw on formal occasions, so I would look even more like a good soldier.

It wasn’t just for them, though. As I laid out the white uniform with its gold trim and green sash, I felt pride swell in my chest. I had arrived, and the clothes marked that. Sure, I might let my magic slip occasionally, but I was as close to a full wizard as I could be for a second-year student. The thick, magically enhanced wool wasn’t all that comfy, but it could stop a bullet as long as you had magic to spare.

Which reminded me: the Smiths could wait a couple of minutes; it was time for my daily ritual. Once I was dressed, I exited the women’s dorms.

The island fort reminded me of a medieval castle, with its high walls enclosing the equivalent of a town. Everything was tightly packed to make room for a large training zone on the far side of the base behind another set of walls. The first barrier was there to defend us from prying eyes and (God forbid) a Grim Horde attack. The second was there to protect everybody else from stray magic. I wondered if that was why the base was set up on an island in the first place.

I spotted some of my fellow Nagoya students, girls from my cross-country running club, milling around the entrance. They had split us up pretty randomly when the Tower was attacked, but the club was mostly intact. I wasn’t close enough to hear much, but the snippets of conversation I’d picked up sounded juicy. Something about Sandra from Class 1-C and one of the Wizard Corps privates?

Oh, how I wanted to blow off the Smiths and join in. I knew I’d regret it, so I waved hello as I passed.

“Rose!” shouted Junko, “You won’t believe what—”

“Sorry, I have to run,” I replied, matching her Japanese. “I have orders.” I wasn’t quite fluent, but if you wanted to get by in the post-Horde world, you had to know at least a little. They were the richest free country left, after all.

Junko nodded before going back to the general chatter. It was hard to break away; Junko was always up to speed on anything salacious. It was how I’d figured out that Soren wasn’t exactly the type to settle down.

Later, I promised myself. That sort of gossip wasn’t going to go stale, if it was true. Even if it wasn’t, you don’t want to fall behind on the rumor mill.

I made my way to the magical artifact shop near the conventional armory, which was on the way to the main office where the Smiths were waiting for me. I went in the back; I didn’t need to rile up my interrogators any more than I had to.

Since I had arrived at the base, the local magical artifact experts had begun leaving metal and wood magical batteries for me to charge every morning. The gleaming metal runes marked them as fabricata magical artifacts. Spells could be spoken or written, but either way, they needed a wizard to give them life.

Most spellcasters don’t bother with magical batteries; they’re pretty much just for nerds and engineers. Wizards usually used their own magic for everything, and once they had run out, they were out. For me, though? They were a lifeline. At some point, Soren had helped me figure out that I could control Stormbringer better if I had less magic in me, and the local wandheads at Fort Flamel had plenty of use for the excess magic.

“Six batteries? You’re dreaming, even if I wasn’t in a hurry.” Each of the bulky cylinders came up to my waist, and was topped with an impression in the shape of a human hand.

I exhaled, focusing my magic. The incantation, Charge, was what was called a Raw Spell, which meant that I had to sound out the runes it was written in one at a time. I put one hand in the holder, twisting my fingers so only my middle and index fingers were extended.

“To Lo Ah Ra Na…”

As I spoke each rune into being, they flashed through the air in golden script, orbiting my hands like Saturn’s rings before they vanished, their work done. The energy flowed down into my right hand, and the green indicator on the side of the battery began to fill up.

A breeze made the capelet and waist sash on my uniform billow about as Stormbringer resisted my attempts to bring it to heel. Calm down. You own your magic, it doesn’t own you. I wasn’t sure how right that was, but it was a mantra Mr. Maki had taught me in our Affinity training classes. I didn’t miss a beat; I could cast Charge in my sleep.

I shuddered at the thought. Pumping out magic energy without a receptacle sounded like a good way to burn down the dorms. Good thing I slept with my magic disruptor.

Casting Charge was always a relief, and even if I couldn’t fully discharge my excess magic, taking a little off the top made the storm churning inside me calm down. The wind stopped altogether, and I knew it wouldn’t start again until I’d had a good meal or a nap.

I decided that I had enough time to top off one battery, and I slunk out the way I’d come. The engineers were always happy to see me, since I was powering half of their fabricata, but I didn’t have time to chat.

I had to walk around the line stretching out of the mess hall, since nobody was willing to risk their spot in line to let me pass. Those must have been some pancakes! Fort Flamel usually housed fifty soldiers and about twice as many support staff, so things were a bit more crowded with us Nagoya students and staff members running around. It’s why Soren and I woke up around dawn for our jogs: it was our only chance at a little privacy.

I finally arrived at the admin building, a solid-looking concrete bunker. “Good morning, Cadet Cooper,” said a mundane JSDF soldier guarding the entrance. He shifted his rifle so he could give me a shallow bow. “They are waiting for you.”

I recognized him, since I’d been out there so bloody often. I smiled brightly, though. It wasn’t his fault. “Hello there, Private Arakawa.” I responded with a deeper bow. The regular military had an inferiority complex about wizards sometimes, and I didn’t want to add to it.

Speaking of inferiority complexes, it was time to go meet with the Smiths. I wound my way through the drab, featureless hallways. Just like my mouth knew Charge forward and backward, my feet found their way to the interrogation room without much direction from me.

I hesitated outside of room 16A. I sighed. It was time to go in and get the third degree again. It’s not like they ever had anything new to ask, though they had a million bloody ways to ask the same things.

What is your name?

Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Holy Brotherhood?

Have you had any dealing with their members?

Oh, you hate the Holy Brotherhood? That sounds like something a demonkin might say.

Do you think the Anti-Demonic League is winning the war? Would you switch sides to save your friends? What about your family? They say the Horde is good to their collaborators.

What a ridiculous idea. I couldn’t say that I knew better, of course; Soren’s family had been demonkin, the sort of idiots who welcome evil with open arms to save their own skins. He had the horrific scars on his body to prove just how well they treated even loyal humans, which is why he had seen the light. I already owed the Horde for England, but I’d make those demons pay extra for my friend. Revenge on the Horde kept me going some days.

And yet, the Smiths still didn’t believe me!

“How dare they?”

I didn’t choose to kick the wall, but the next thing I knew, I had.

Maybe I had finally reached the breaking point with the interrogations, or maybe I was just grumpy from not getting my run or my breakfast, but I had had it! “You’re not going to put up with their garbage today, Rose! No more! You’re going to march right in there and tell them off!”

Buoyed by my righteous indignation, I shoved the door open and entered the windowless interrogation room. At least, it looked windowless; Soren suspected the far wall was a one-way mirror. I couldn’t get a good look, since the cramped space was lit only by a single lamp on the desk.

I shuddered at the sight of the Smiths, my resolve softening. I’d love to tell you what they looked like, but all I could tell was that they were humans wearing clothes of some sort. There were two of them this time, not that I could tell them apart. Wizard Corps spies of a certain rank wore fabricata that made them impossible to identify. The Holy Brotherhood had used the same trick during the attack, which didn’t make me think any more fondly of the Smiths. They all went by Smith, and I don’t know how they didn’t get confused. They seemed to be able to tell each other apart, but nobody else could.

“Good morning, Ms. Cooper,” said the left Smith. “We have—”

“No, listen here,” I said, my hand on my hip as I jabbed a finger at him. “What do I have to do to convince you I’m not one of those lousy Holy Brothers?”

The Smiths exchanged a look, the right Smith holding up his hands placatingly. “Ms. Cooper, we—”

I crossed my arms under my chest, shooting the right Smith a withering glare. “I was there fighting them right in the Tower! I don’t care if I fit the profile, I smashed that profile to pieces when I fought Holy Brother Maus in a pitch-black basement!”

The left Smith stepped forward, coming just short of touching me. “Ms. Cooper, we’re not here to—”

In the back of my head, I noticed they seemed awfully calm about my outburst. However, I was on a roll, and I cut the man off. “What do you think you’re going to get out of me you haven’t yet? And why me? There are much more suspect people running around!” Had I just pointed a finger at Soren? Too late; I couldn’t stop now. “I’m a good student and a loyal cadet, and I want to speak to your commander!”

“That can be arranged,” said a tinny voice coming through a speaker above my head. Proving Soren right, a light came on at the back of the room, revealing a ruddy-skinned Wizard Corpsman sitting on the other side of the now transparent glass. “Whichever of you Smiths said she was a firecracker wasn’t kidding.”

I started; I wasn’t expecting to have an audience for my little tantrum. He had a Lieutenant’s bars on chest, and the rest was covered with a brilliant array of campaign patches and medals for valor.

Visions of a court martial and prison filled my mind. “I’m so sorry!” My face felt so warm I was worried I would burst into flames, and I bowed in apology so quickly that I lost my green beret. “I-I’ll answer all the questions you want, I was just kidding! My name is Rose Cooper, and on in the day in question, we went back into the Nagoya Tower to look for our missing friend Soren, when we were caught—”

One of the Smiths coughed into his hand. “You can stop; we already know all of that.”

“You have been very consistent with your story. It all checks out,” said the other.

“O-oh,” I said, finding a way to blush even harder.

The newcomer chuckled. “Relax, Cadet Cooper.” He pressed a button as he stood, causing a previously hidden door next to the observation window to slide open.

Once he was out in the open, I could get a better look at him. The lanky man was old enough to be my father, his red short-cropped red hair streaked with grey. His accent marked him as American, one of those old West Coast types without a strong flavor in his voice. Not a lot of those left these days.

He seemed pleased with himself. “Don’t worry about the interview; they were done with you a week ago.”

“What?” I asked, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.

“Don’t blame the Smiths too much; they were following my orders.”

I’m sure I looked gobsmacked. “They were? What for? Who are you?”

“I guess I did forget to introduce myself.” He held up his hand in an open-palmed Wizard Corps salute, which I matched. “Lieutenant Harold O’Connor, Corps Intelligence.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Really? It didn’t sound like it a minute ago.”

I gulped. “I’m—”

“Don’t you even think about apologizing,” he said, hooking his thumbs into his belt. “That was bullshit, but it was bullshit with a point. You passed my test.”

“Test?” I squeaked.

“I needed somebody with your expertise to solve a little problem for me, but the Smiths insisted you could be a demonkin or a Holy Brother in disguise. Once they were done, I decided to see how long you’d put up with their crap.”

“About a week too long,” I muttered.

“Can’t see that I blame you. You went to a Japanese magic school. They produce good soldiers, but crap operatives. I’m glad they didn’t totally snuff out your independent streak; you’re gonna need that where we’re going.”

“Lieutenant, I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” I said. I normally wouldn’t disagree with an officer, but he had just said he wanted to see my fire.

“So, you didn’t,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s going to have to be a leap of faith; it’s all top secret for now, but I can guarantee you two things. First off, you’re going to want to be in on this. Second, you’re the best candidate for the job. I’m kinda up shit creek if you say no. So, what do you say?”

“Of course!” I knew I’d agreed too easily, but nobody in authority at the Nagoya Academy had ever believed in me before, and this strange American saying he needed me specifically felt so affirming.

“Fantastic!” He clapped me on the back, taking me off guard. “Now, this is all hush-hush, so here’s what you’re going to tell your friends to throw ‘em off the trail…”