Chapter 2

Once we’d seen the sisters off, the three of us realized that the whole scene between Kowalski and Lilja had been allowed to play out for an awfully long time. It was a bit shocking that we hadn’t been greeted yet.

I scanned the area around the car port while Mariko wiped a hint of lipstick off Kowalski’s face. Probably for the best; the only Wizard Corpsmen we seemed to meet without a stick up their asses were demonkin.

The old American airbase wasn’t abandoned by any means. There were plenty of mundane Anti-Demonic League Defense Force personnel going about their business. However, it seemed that nobody had noticed us.

“Say, Kowalski,” I asked, waiting to speak until Mariko was done fussing with him, “did you overhear what the guards at the front said to Heida when they waved her through?”

“Uh, no,” he said, adding a nervous chuckle. “I was a little busy.”

“You sure were,” I added, flashing him a rakish grin. “When you’re running that farm in a decade, be sure to give Mariko a good rate on wool yarn. Her supply’s running low.”

“W-we weren’t doing anything dirty in the back of the van! W-we were just talking!” As expected, Kowalski’s face went so red as to almost look demonic. I’d never much cared for the man before our assignment in Iceland, but he’d grown on me. Still, it was ever so fun to push his buttons. “W-well, I mean we haven’t known each other that long, b-b-but…” He trailed off.

Knowing that Kowalski would be in vapor lock for a good thirty seconds, I turned to Mariko. “I suppose we weren’t much more useful, were we?”

Mariko shook her head. “I think we can be excused; we were both asleep at the time. You kept me up late last night.”

Kowalski’s eyebrow raised. “What?”

Now it was my turn for my face to turn a bit red, which I blamed on the chilly weather. “Oh, nothing like that.” At least, not much like that; I was on good behavior, but I wasn’t a eunuch. “Mariko’s been drafted the same as you and me, and I’ve been teaching her some combat magic. Isn’t that right, my dear?”

Mariko didn’t seem the least flustered, and I wondered if the double meaning had been on purpose. She stared down at her right hand like it had betrayed her. “Yes, sadly. Fireball has been difficult to learn.”

Kowalski’s eyebrow hadn’t come down yet. “Really? Isn’t that the first spell they taught us? How can that be hard?”

“It is if you never learned,” she said, sounding defensive, subconsciously hiding her right hand in her left.

Mariko had a deserved hangup about her ruined right arm, but it didn’t seem productive to get into it. If she hadn’t told Kowalski, there was probably a good reason.

“Anyhow,” I said, noticing that my breath had become visible while we’d dithered about, “it seems to me that we’ve been dropped off here with no idea of what we’re supposed to do. If we’ve been abandoned, let’s be abandoned somewhere warm.”

Kowalski and I had packed light, giving us each a free arm for Mariko’s things. It’s funny how paper books seem so light until you’re hauling a couple dozen of them.

“Soren, let me take those. It is not fair,” said Mariko.

“I have a better idea,” I said. “Say, Buddy! Want to stretch your legs?”

Kowalski nodded. “Good idea. Buddy’s probably tired of being cooped up, anyway.” He set one of the duffle bags onto his shadow, which suddenly grew white, pupil-less eyes. “Look alive, man. There’s work to do.”

No matter how many times I saw Kowalski’s living magical affinity, there was always something uncanny about the shadowy golem. His form was more liquid than anything else, so he wasn’t constrained by petty things like bones or joints. Kowalski’s shadow suddenly went from having two to three dimensions as an ink-black head emerged from the darkness like a crocodile poking out of the water.

The pack-mule like form he took as he remade himself was more restrained than some of Buddy’s creativity. There were still only two eyes and four legs, after all.

I was forced to amend that thought as a tentacle grew from nowhere on his back, lashing out and relieving me of half of my luggage. A full-bodied shudder ran through me as I thanked Hell and Heaven that he was more or less on my side.

And the obnoxious part was, I could tell from his smug, jagged smile that he’d spooked me on purpose!

I guided us over towards the mess hall, which adjoined the medical unit where I’d been treated for a hole in the ass. And yes, I can just hear the childish jokes forming in your mind. I assure you, taking a Celestial Arrow to the buttock is only funny if it isn’t your buttock.

“You sure this is the right place to go, Soren?” asked Kowalski. “I don’t want to be AWOL.”

“It seems to me that the failure to give us orders is leave,” I said. “After all, they’re about to have us for ten years. Well, five for you, my dear.” The privilege of being able to give birth to more wizards in a world with so few of them. “They can do without us for a moment while we warm ourselves up.”

The mess was like other cafeterias I’d visited in the human realms. By this point, I suspected there was only a single manufacturer of tables and chairs for the Anti-Demonic League. A drab one, at that, composed of shockingly expensive slabs of plastic. Military contractors are the same everywhere, though since humans don’t tend to immolate those who wrong them, we devils keep ours a bit more honest.

There were a few soldiers and civilians milling about, but it seemed we were between the lunch and dinner rushes. None of them took notice of us, which was fine by me.

“I was wondering when you three would arrive.”

I hadn’t expected to see a familiar face. Moulham Lahlou was possibly the best teacher I’d had at the Nagoya Academy of Magic: not given to self-aggrandizement like Asahi Maki, not a sanctimonious know-it-all like Yosuke Tachibana, and not a damn Holy Brother agent like Maggie Edwards. He was also less prone to grabbing my ass than Neci Perera, which was a blessing. The wiry, bearded man simply graded papers, gave lectures, and tried to drill the basics of fabricata magical artifacts into our heads.

Mr. Lahlou had set up a towel on one of the tables, and he wore a set of jeweler’s glasses as he soldered runic characters onto a hunk of metal. His brown eyes looked enormous through the specialized lenses.

We shuffled over, depositing our luggage at the foot of the long table as Mr. Lahlou set aside his work. He reached out and shook our hands in turn, which made Mariko’s eye twitch at the unwelcome reminder of her issues. I’m sure only I noticed, since I knew what to look for.

“Mr. Lahlou,” I said, sitting opposite from him on a simulated-wood chair, “what a pleasant surprise! I’m amazed you could recognize me through that thing.”

The Moroccan’s lips twisted in a wry grin as he flipped up the lens. “Oh, I couldn’t really, Mr. Marlowe. All I could see was the green on white from your uniform. I didn’t know of any other cadets who’d be showing up today and took a chance.” He nodded to my companions. “Ms. Yamada, Mr. Kowalski, welcome, welcome. How does it feel?”

“A bit chilly, sir,” said Kowalski.

“No, not the weather,” he chuckled. “Being real Wizard Corpsmen!” His eyes narrowed as he took in our lack of response. “Don’t all celebrate at once.”

I had to remind myself that as far as anyone knew, Soren Marlowe wouldn’t have any divided loyalties. He was the last man out of England, after all, and a famous hero to boot. It was time to turn ‘on’.

“It was a bit of a shock that they skipped us past Second Year,” I said. “I only hope that I don’t shame my school. You did a fantastic job preparing all of us in the remedial classes.”

Mr. Lahlou settled back in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest. “Asahi was right.”

“About what?” I asked.

“You’re a terrible brown noser. You can relax; we aren’t throwing you draftees right onto the front lines.”

“Then where are we going?” I asked.

“That’s on a need-to-know basis,” he said, leaning in as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Remember, there could be spies anywhere. But, I can say we ship out tomorrow, and don’t expect too much in the way of civilization.”

“We?” asked Kowalski. “You’re coming with us?”

He nodded. “The school’s still shut down after the Tower Attack, so they need to keep me busy somehow. Besides…” I didn’t care for the twinkle in his eye. “It sounds like you three encountered something extremely interesting a few weeks back. I was hoping you’d tell me all about it.”

“I do not think that would be wise,” said Mariko, her tone guarded. “Whatever Mol was, that is dangerous information.” She had been quiet since Mr. Lahlou had called us over, and I could practically feel the irritation wafting off of her.

“Pardon?” he asked.

I cut off Mariko, quickly intuiting her meaning. “You did just say there could be spies anywhere. It might be best to wait until our final deployment.”

He sniffed once. “I flew all the way here from… you don’t need to know where to hear your report. I must insist on having it.”

“We already spoke with League Intelligence at some length,” said Mariko.

He gestured towards his assorted tools. “Your questioners weren’t interested in what I want to know. That thing you encountered was an extraordinary feat of fabricata engineering. They wouldn’t let me go out to wherever they had you hidden away while they hunted for demonkin assassins. I won’t wait a moment longer.”

Ah, so there was an ulterior motive! Now that was familiar territory.

“I’ll admit, it’s a bit distressing that they called off the search without finding the Beckers’ accomplices,” I said.

Mr. Lahlou shrugged. “You can’t hide forever, Mr. Marlowe. All the more reason for us to go polish your magical skills… once I’ve had a chance to hear your reports.”

Mariko let out an annoyed little grunt. “I—”

“How about a compromise,” I said, trying to head off an argument. “I was up close with that beast for the longest time. I’ll give you my report somewhere private now and give these two a chance to get unpacked. If you aren’t satisfied when we’re done, Mariko and Kowalski will be ready for you.”

There was that gleam in his eyes again. “It sounds like a plan.” He gestured towards a doorway towards the back of the mess hall. “You should enjoy tonight while you can; it’ll be your last night with private rooms for the foreseeable future.”

I cast Mariko a meaningful glance. “Understood, sir.”

************

Being a demon among humans had made me paranoid. Had somebody told Mr. Lahlou that Mariko and I were dating? It was odd to specifically call out the private rooms as a perk. Technically, the Wizard Corps frowned upon fraternization. Was he going to burst in to write us up?

Ah, well. I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity, and my invite was texted to Mariko as soon as I’d finished with Mr. Lahlou.

I’d had such high hopes for the evening when Mariko showed up in my borrowed room after lights out, doubly so when she removed her jacket.

“I was wondering when I’d get to see that little number again,” I said as I closed the door behind her.

Mariko’s coy little smile stoked my fires further. “This old thing?”

That little minx knew exactly how to catch my eye. She’d made the blue sweater herself and stopped knitting when I suggested that it had more than enough fabric already. This meant that it left her shoulders exposed, along with an absolutely scandalous amount of décolletage.

Mariko possessed many fine qualities; she was kind, a fantastic cook, and shockingly brave for an avowed pacifist. However, she had two particular qualities that people tended to notice first upon meeting her, and both were straining against the knit wool.

“Ara. Close your mouth before you catch a fly!”

“You’re right; why only look?” I lunged for her, but she sidestepped my playful attack. “Oh, hard to get, are we?”

“I was hoping we could talk a little first,” she said. “Eyes up here, Soren! If they are too distracting, I can put my jacket back on.”

“I’ll be good,” I blurted out.

Mariko giggled as she sat down on my bed. “I am glad you are not tired of me yet.” She adjusted her bright red glasses, and I noticed her left hand was trembling nearly as much as her right.

Hopefully she was quavering with desire; I knew I was. I flashed her a wolfish grin as I pulled up a chair from a small writing desk. “Tired of you? Never. Still, that dress was a cruel choice if you were going to make me wait!”

Her smile faltered. “Before we do anything, I have two things to ask you, Kasasagi.”

“Oh?”

“The first is the easy one,” she said. “How did your interview with Mr. Lahlou go? I noticed he did not call me afterwards.”

“I should think that would be a relief,” I said. “You were rather put out before. Are you afraid of what he’s going to ask you?”

“No,” she said. “I am worried about why he is asking. Mulciber was an ordinary devil turned into a beast by fabricata. Please tell me Mr. Lahlou was not trying to reverse engineer that horrible magic!”

“Not the way you’re thinking,” I said. “He was more after what Mulciber could do, and then he got into the weeds about the runic stanzas stitched into his hide. I wasn’t much help on that last part, since I was rather busy dodging at the time.”

“Interesting,” said Mariko, her brow furrowing in thought. “He is an important wizard. They took Mulciber’s body away; why not simply go study it?”

“Hard to say. If it makes you feel better, he might just skip both of your interviews; I was rather useless to him.”

Mariko bit her lip. “You are sure he will not try anything inhumane? The war with the Horde is not going well, and cornered animals are the most dangerous.”

I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be practical, anyhow; the humans don’t exactly have an underclass of the magically gifted to turn into living golems. They need every wizard they can get for other purposes.”

Her face fell. “I know that; it is why I am still here, in spite of everything. Still, that is a relief.”

Oh, I wasn’t about to let that stand! I hopped onto the bed, catching her off guard and pinning her beneath me. “Well, I for one am glad you’re here. Otherwise, we’d have never met. Let me show you how appreciative I am…”

“W-wait! Wait!” Her eyes went wide as her face turned bright red. “I-I still have one more question to ask! W-will you do me a favor?”

I couldn’t quite restrain myself, and I started undoing the zipper on her checkered skirt. “Name it and consider it done, so we can get on to the main event.”

She grabbed my shirt collar, bringing my ear right next to her lips. The next words out of her mouth cut me short.

I rose back onto all fours, looking down at her in dumb silence for a moment.

“Well?” she asked. “You said I could consider it done.”

“Not that!”

Chapter 3

“Please, Soren?” Mariko looked up at me, her dark eyes imploring me to give in. “I have wanted this for weeks, ever since the night after the battle.”

“My dear, we’ve been over this,” I said, averting my gaze and letting her loose. “And it’s no fair looking at me like that.”

“Why should I not?” She wriggled underneath me to stay in my field of view. “This is our last chance to try it before we deploy!”

Normally, I didn’t mind looking at her. Mariko Yamada had a winsome smile and a soft, pleasant face. Her brown hair was, as always, thrown over her right shoulder in a perfect braid. It gave her a motherly air about her at the ripe old age of twenty-one, emphasized by her thick-framed glasses.

Of course, she’d come dressed for persuasion, and my eyes shifted down as she nearly bounced out of her low-cut sweater from the sudden movement.

I shook my head; I needed to keep my focus. “Please, see sense. What you’re asking for is dangerous!”

Mariko frowned. “You did it to Kiyo!”

I’d just had to tell her about that… “That was before I knew the risks. You humans are more delicate than I realized. Frankly, I’m lucky I didn’t kill her.”

Mariko smirked at that. “Ara, you are overestimating yourself. I am sure I can handle it.”

“It’s a lot to take in, though,” I countered. “Especially what you have planned.”

Mariko puffed out her cheeks. “Kasasagi…” Her tone was dangerous, just on the verge of irritation. “What do I have to lose?”

“I’d think your life would be plenty,” I countered. “At the very least, we could make an awful mess of things if it went awry.”

“You have been very cruel,” she said, caressing my cheek with her ever-trembling right hand, “refusing to try Alheln on me when it could give me my art back.”

“Zone of Silence!” The spell tumbled out of my mouth by reflex as I twisted my fingers into the proper casting position. Golden magical runes flew through the air around my hands, collapsing onto themselves to summon a shimmering dome of energy over us. I’d resisted before, since I’d learned at the farmhouse about the dangers of too little sound while skulking about, but this was getting dangerous. “We agreed we were going to be coy about my demonic magic, remember? Anything demonic, for that matter! What would somebody think if they’d overheard us?”

Though, I supposed we’d given any eavesdroppers plenty to work with, especially if their imagination was as randy as mine.

Mariko had been playing before, but her face hardened. “You know how much this means to me. How can you deny me this hope?”

“I wasn’t joking before, my dear,” I said. “Listen, you know my past. I wasn’t in the business of finding out what happened to the humans I cast spells on, so I didn’t know the risks when I healed Kiyo. For pity’s sake, I put Haru in a coma for a month!”

Mariko shook her head. “When you vaporized his arm with a Bloody Lance! Alheln is healing magic. It does not compare.”

“The medical staff back at the school told me that demonic residuum stays in the tissues, though,” I countered. “It’s basically magical radiation! You don’t need that in you.”

Her eyes went dewy as she bent her right arm. “It is a bit late for that.” With a single tug, she pulled back her sleeve to reveal a sight I always dreaded.

Ruhspont, or Rough Spout in English, was a spell that would qualify as a war crime if devils had the moral fiber to care about such things. Mariko’s arm had been ruined from wrist to elbow months before we’d met, her smooth, pale skin interrupted by red ridges of scar tissue that reminded me of desert canyons.

I didn’t look away, though. She’d shared her so-called shame with me, and I wasn’t about to wound her with my eyes.

Especially since I was out to thwart my lady love’s greatest wish. “You know Alheln will do nothing for those scars,” I said. “You’ve seen me shirtless enough times to know that.”

Mariko quickly covered her arm again. “And you know the scars are the least of it.”

I had been surprised when Mariko hadn’t whipped out a magical translator to make her case; I thought her accented English was perfectly fine, but she usually used the enchanted fabricata for important moments.

However, when her right hand caressed my cheek again, I realized she didn’t need words; the constant tremor that had ended her career as an artist made the point for her.

“That isn’t fair,” I said.

“Neither is keeping me in suspense,” she said. “Ever since I saw you use that spell to heal your broken hand, it is all I can think about. If it worked for you, why not for me?”

“Well…” I felt my resolve weaken as she bored into me with those sad eyes of hers. “It’s a tad different, though.”

“How so?”

“Well…”

She smiled up at me. “I hear an echo.”

“It’s hard to be cogent when you’re so miserable,” I said. Also hard when she was so close in that getup, but it didn’t seem polite to mention that. “Alright, here’s my case: it’s an old wound, you’re a pure human, and the nervous system is a tricky bitch. Any one of those would give me pause, but with all three, your hand could end up completely ruined.”

“That might get me out of Wizard Corps service, though,” she said. “It is half-useless anyhow, so what would be the harm?”

“And how would I feel if I maimed you, hm? Did you consider that?”

Mariko’s face fell as she took a step back. “I… I had not.”

We stared at each other in silence for a moment.

She broke the impasse. “You really are worried about hurting me.”

“My dear,” I said, after a moment’s consideration, “after what I’ve put you through, I’m amazed you can stand to look me in the eye. You got out of my schemes at the Tower mostly intact…”

“I have forgiven you all that,” she said, her tone allowing for no argument.

“If you would let me finish,” I said. “This isn’t hypothetical damage like before. Alheln could actually cripple you!”

“If the worst happens, I will forgive you again.”

“But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself,” I said. “Not if I did something to you that I could never take back. Please, don’t make me do this.”

A pregnant silence filled the air about us as Mariko weighed my words.

“Kasasagi… do you know why you are here now?”

“That’s an awfully philosophical question to throw at me,” I replied.

She shook her head. “No, I mean do you know why you are here with me instead of anywhere else?”

I struggled with the vague question. “Because I’m handsomer than Kowalski?”

That earned me a slight grin, though it faded. Her trembling hand caressed my cheek again. “No. Because back at the Nagoya Tower, you did not abandon me when it would have been the easiest thing in the world. That was not even the first time you saved me. Whenever I am in trouble, you always come to my rescue. Please, do it one more time. I cannot stand not to know.”

That tremor. I was always conscious of it, and it wasn’t even my hand.

“Very well,” I said, scooting back so she could sit back up on the bed. It seemed that no matter how far I came, I was still a fool for a pretty face. I’d cast Alheln hundreds of times over the years, but I found myself focusing on the magical gestures, twisting my fingers over and over again. There could be no mistake.

She joined me, and I couldn’t tell which of us was more nervous. “It… it seemed painful when you cast it on yourself.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Human healing magic tries to gently coax the body into healing itself. All Heal brute forces things back into place, whether you’re ready or not.” I let the statement hang in the air, hoping she would see reason.

No such luck; she simply nodded once.

“Say when,” I said once I was sure my fingers were in position. “Actually, wait. You’ll want to bite down on something; I know for certain it doesn’t regrow severed tongues.”

Mariko nodded, finding a handkerchief in her purse to do the trick. She squeezed her eyes shut, her shoulders trembling like her hand normally did. She brought her hands together under her chin, looking like she was deep in prayer. She might have been, for all I knew. Another nod told me she was ready.

“Alheln.” The word echoed for a moment in our soundproof bubble as harsh, angular Demonic runes filled the air around my hands. They collapsed into a shower of red residuum that filled the air as the demoniac energies flowed into her body.

Mariko jolted like I’d run a thousand volts through her, leaving her seat for a moment before gravity seized her again. I could just hear the stifled shriek through her improvised gag as All Heal did its work.

The magic faded from my fingers, and I was surprised at how quickly it was over. It had been months since I’d had cause to cast All Heal on anybody but myself; clearly the brief spike of agony made it feel longer than it actually took.

I placed a hand on the middle of her back, which turned out to be a mistake as she toppled over into my lap. I gingerly removed the handkerchief from her mouth. She needed the help; her labored breathing was the only sound around us as I rubbed her back.

“Mariko?”

“Y-you did not exaggerate,” she managed as she sat up, clinging to me for support.

Our Father Below take the Enemy’s curse of empathy. A proper devil would have filed away her shaky grip on my left shirtsleeve as useful information for later. Instead, I held her close, dreading the moment when one of us broke the silence.

“Thank you for trying,” said Mariko, a few lonely tears working their way down her face as she looked up at me. “It seems you were correct.”

“I… I tried to…” For once, I managed to not blurt out the first thought that came to mind, which would have been a kinder variant of ‘I told you so’. Definitely not what she needed to hear.

“You did,” she said, inflicting me with a fake little smile that only made things worse. She released her death grip on my sleeve and inspected her rogue limb. After a few experimental flexes of her fingers, she nodded once. “It might be slightly better?”

“Perhaps,” I said in a noncommittal tone. I knew false hope when I heard it. “At least it doesn’t seem to have made things worse.”

“Then nothing gained or lost,” she said, her voice breaking at the end. Her tongue played around in her mouth a moment. “I-it fixed that canker sore that was bothering me. That is… that is something…”

She trailed off and the real sobbing began as I held her closer. That heartbreaking sound was muffled by my shirt, but it still wounded me.

We did not end up having the romantic encounter I’d hoped for. The mood was completely spoiled. We stayed like that for a time before she collected herself and thanked me again. We did share a kiss as I escorted her back to her room, but it was a matter of comfort more than anything amorous.

I made a vow to myself, though I did not share it with her. I did not need to raise her hopes again, after all. Both magical and conventional medicine had failed Mariko, but I was going to find a way to restore her. I wasn’t sure how yet, but I was a devil with resources and insight that nobody else on the Enemy’s green earth possessed. Whatever it took, I wouldn’t let any chance slip through my fingers.

That would ultimately lead to another of the many impulsive choices that would shape my destiny. However, that would be a while, yet. First would come the ‘fun’ of boot camp.