Chapter 72

We ended up tarrying at the shipyards for longer than I’d expected. Those of us who were mobile (and I very technically qualified) were called upon to lead fresh League wizards and mundane troops on a guided tour of the battlefield.

An oddly familiar blond wizard with freckles was brought in to retrieve the longboats the orcs had squirreled away under the docks. With a wave of his wand, he summoned a stout wind that blew the abandoned ship into view. He was around ten years my senior, though I only guessed that from the grey that was starting to creep into his hair. His insignia read Steven Cooper.

Did Rose have a brother named Steven? I once again wished I’d paid a tad more attention when she talked about her homelife. I was reasonably confident it was him, though.

After an introduction, I asked, “Say, have you heard from your sister? She hasn’t been answering her calls.”

I felt a little bad about not looking more deeply into Rose’s disappearance. Then again, I’d had my hands more than a bit full with Fera.

Steven’s jovial smile faded. “I haven’t gotten a firm word yet. They keep saying she was on a mission, something strange went down, and that she’s alive. Between you and me, if my brother Jack wasn’t in intel, I don’t think we’d know that much yet. Lord knows it took them forever to tell us about Albert.”

Funny how seemingly good news could still be distressing.

I had something to take my mind off it soon enough, though. Once the League military was done with us, we were rotated out for some rest… in theory. In practice, my squad was quickly hauled into Sergeant Lakhdar’s office. I’d seen her skirting around the edges of the battlefield, making a point of speaking to everyone except me. She even rebuffed me when I tried to greet her.

She cast a Zone of Silence over the whole room before she demanded my report.

Thankfully, I’d had some more time to consider things while I’d been marched back and forth across the shipyards. It was easy enough to hew close to the story I’d told King George: that my demonkin past had caught up with me, and that Fera had used that association to menace first Kiyo, and then Mariko. I truthfully said that if she hadn’t threatened to snuff out either of them if I stepped out of line, that I’d have gone right to Sergeant Lakhdar and risked being outed. Instead, I’d opted to set a trap for Fera and her accomplices, never imagining that she’d manage to smuggle scores of Orcs from the continent to fight us.

What I added to my story was that it was the same devil who had inhabited Wendy Bailey and Major Amanda Smythe, hoping that her falling into League custody would give her some closure.

My report done, I returned to parade rest, waiting for her reply. I could practically feel Gabriella’s eyes boring holes in me as she got a peek into my sordid past, as incomplete as it was. I suspected that any residual affection she had for me had finally been dissolved.

Sergeant Carine Lakhdar wasn’t an especially tall woman, but there was menace in her eyes as she considered my words. Even with the others there, I suspected she wouldn’t hold back on their account. They sat behind me, while I stood before the sergeant’s desk. There was a tension in the air about us as we waited for the shoe to drop. It rather reminded me of the public floggings that Girdan had always meted out when I’d misbehaved, though I imagined I’d only be lashed verbally this time.

From her expression, though, that seemed to be a near thing…

“I asked Private Takehara what had happened, and he said you’d warned him about the attack,” she said, standing and starting to pace back and forth. “I asked Asahi Maki, and he said you’d warned him that something secret was happening. I looked over your call records, and you were in touch with Private Heida Bryndísardóttir in Iceland, who I’m sure you weren’t calling for pleasure!”

“He’d better not have been,” muttered Mariko to herself.

If Sergeant Lakhdar heard Mariko, it didn’t derail her rant. “So, can I ask why I was left out, when from everything you’ve told me, my original theory was completely correct!”

“Well, ma’am,” I said, staying , “the issue wasn’t you, per se. It was more that if the demon realized she was being treated differently by anybody in the unit, she’d know that I had given up her game. I had to pretend that nothing was awry. Also, in my defense, I only told those others that there might be trouble, not the nature of that trouble.”

I decided to leave out that Fera had accessed my call records; it could only hurt my case that I’d had things under some sort of control.

“That’s still a load of crap,” said Gabriella. “I was working with a devil that whole time! She could have gotten bored and possessed me at any point!”

“Good point, Private Hernandez,” said the sergeant, “but wait to give your report.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Gabriella, you’re a victim in this,” I said. “But, if you knew for certain that Mariko or Kiyo was a demon, could you have kept it to yourself?”

She stayed quiet, which spoke volumes.

“I remember telling you that any of us were expendable, compared to possibly letting a devil with that power run free,” said Sergeant Lakhdar. “I told you that if the devil couldn’t be contained, you were to catch the devil by surprise and vaporize her and her host.”

“You did, ma’am,” I admitted.

“Why didn’t you carry out my orders?” she asked.

“I was too close to the subjects,” I admitted. “I wanted to think that there was a chance I could save them both.”

“She killed my friend too, Private,” she said. “We’ve all lost friends in this war, and you got a whole group of mundane soldiers killed with your antics! You very nearly got two squads of wizards and the dang King of England wiped out at the same time. It was a stupid, risky gamble.”

Funny how she was more fussed about the dead Yeomen than the king. “I cannot deny this. I will accept whatever punishments you care to give, ma’am.”

She shot to her feet. “This isn’t something you can wipe away with extra kitchen duty or pushups, Marlowe! You knew what I’d have ordered you to do, so you kept me in the dark so I couldn’t.”

Mariko coughed. “Ma’am, may I please say something?”

“What is it, Yamada?” she snapped.

Mariko stepped forward to my side. “Ma’am, if you wanted Soren to do exactly as he told, why did you train him the way you did?’

My heart rate increased as I feared that Mariko was only digging me deeper.

“Explain,” said the sergeant.

“I remember when Soren was helping us all tackle The Gauntlet. You did not order him to, and you almost chided everyone who went on ahead without a concern for the others. Over and over again, you emphasized that we were to solve problems in creative ways, but also that we were responsible for one another.” She looked up at me with loving eyes. “Kasa… Private Marlowe saw me and Kiyo in danger, and if his approach was not by the book, you cannot deny that it was resourceful and successful.”

I hadn’t noticed Kiyo join me on my other side; years of skulking about made her move silently when she wanted to. “Yeah, she’s right! And I gotta say, I’m going to kill a lot more demons this way than being vaporized. We don’t even know if that would’ve worked!” Suddenly remembering who she was talking to, Kiyo snapped into a salute. “With, uh, all due respect, Sergeant.”

“I’m sure.” Sergeant Lakhdar stood in thought for a moment, before leaning to see the still-seated Gabriella. “Do you have anything you want to add?”

Gabriella stayed where she was, and a glance back showed that I hadn’t been imagining her death glare. “I see where I rank with my squad now. Even if they had their reasons, I was face to face with a devil every day and they still kept me in the dark. They led me into an ambush without any heads up, and I would have died without some dumb luck. I formally request a transfer to another squad as soon as possible.”

“That won’t be hard to arrange,” said Sergeant Lakhdar. “Be seated, everyone.” We gladly complied, though I ended up next to the incensed Gabriella. “Marlowe, Yamada, Jones. If I’d had my way, I would have never put you three in the same squad. Now I’ve realized that my unit’s structure was dictated by some demon trying to put the screws to Marlowe. This is… upsetting. I intend to put things right.”

So, we were to be split up? I couldn’t blame her, from a unit cohesion perspective. At least we could still meet up during meals and recreational time.

“It’s become obvious that Private Marlowe is a danger to everyone around him, since for God only knows what reason, the Grim Horde is fascinated with him. When they aren’t trying to assassinate him in an Icelandic night club, they’re trying to recruit him. I’m not sure which is more of a threat to the Nineteenth Platoon, but either way, you’re out of my unit.”

“I… see.” I kept a stiff upper lip, knowing that Mariko, would take the separation even harder than I. She managed to stay quiet, too. “I understand, ma’am.”

“It isn’t for you to approve or disapprove,” she replied. “It’s already done. Private Hernandez, I’m going to put you with Takehara and Sato’s squad.”

“Sounds great,” said Gabriella in an oddly cheery voice.

“Be ready for heavy fighting,” she replied. “Those two attract almost as much trouble as Marlowe.”

“As long as my squad keeps me in the loop, you could airdrop me into Rome, ma’am,” replied Gabriella.

“And what of us, ma’am?” asked Mariko.

“Funny you should ask,” she said. “You know, I don’t regret my teaching style. I simply think that a wannabe celebrity with skeletons in his closet, an insolent child who disobeys orders when she’s in a snit, and an obstinate pacifist need to learn more conformity, not less. If I were keeping you three in my unit, I’d separate you and break you like unruly horses.”

Funny how those descriptions weren’t quite apt anymore. Ironically, Fera had helped Kiyo come to terms with our breakup, and Mariko had actually downed two orcs on her own, even if she’d tried to warn them off. However, it didn’t seem like a good idea to interrupt the sergeant.

She picked up a tablet sitting on her desk and waved it at us. “However, it seems that somebody still has a use for you. They already asked for Marlowe for a new assignment, as well as any others I could spare. Last week, I’d have been reluctant to give him up. With what you pulled today, though? I’m inclined to unload my problems all at once.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Permission to speak freely? This doesn’t feel like much of a punishment.”

“That’s because you have a shocking number of friends in high places,” she replied. I couldn’t tell if she was peeved or bemused. Probably both. “They still believe you’re worth the fuss and security headaches. If you manage to piss them off, too, then there will be no more second chances for you.”

I gulped. “When do we leave?”

 

 

Epilogue

Haneda Airport, Tokyo, Japan

Friday, March 10^th, 2051

The trip out of North Ireland was surprisingly smooth. Not only was it a less turbulent flight over the Arctic than I was accustomed to, but I wasn’t ever taken aside and clapped in irons.

I was asked to give an official statement to one of the Smiths, which was harrowing in and of itself. It’s disconcerting talking to people whose expressions you can’t read, especially when they have the power to declare you an enemy of the Anti-Demonic League and throw you in some black site for the rest of your (likely short) natural life.

To my shock, they didn’t question my story too much. I left out my so-called demonkin past; after all, King George had been good enough to scrub all the mentions of it from the League intel databases his men had accessed. There was no sense in putting it back on the record, no matter how secretly. However, that’s where my manufactured fame was an advantage; it served as a plausible enough reason for the Horde to target me.

As I look back on it, I see why they gave me the benefit of the doubt. Not only had I slain Mulciber, but I’d just fought off an orcish invasion and helped them capture a powerful devil alive. Those were hardly the actions of a traitor.

Mind you, I’d be sunk as soon as they got Fera talking, but I’d take what I could get.

They did ask the obvious question of why I didn’t refer the problem to League Intelligence. They seemed to think that they were the best equipped to deal with an infiltrator like Fera. And they were correct, since it seemed that they’d managed to hold her for several days. Though, I did wonder if I’d ever hear about it if she escaped…

Now, the real answer is that I’d been taking pains to make sure that they never got their nondescript hands on her. I instead cited concerns about my comms being compromised, and I told them the date that I’d made the calls that Fera’s people had managed to track. While I couldn’t read their voices or faces, the agitated way Smith began tapping his pen on his pad told me that heads would roll for the breach.

I also had to give a statement for the press. Sir Marlowe, the Magpie Wizard, couldn’t vanish into obscurity again without some thought about my public image.

Oh, I still thought that the Fourth Estate were a pack of vultures. However, I kept that to myself this time. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but apparently historians have cited the press conference as an important moment in the United Kingdom’s recent history. Specifically, the statement I gave near the end.

“Sir Marlowe,” said a brunette reporter who I remember for her winsome smile, “how do you feel about being the first knight to fight shoulder to shoulder with an English king in centuries?”

“He was a fine shot,” I said. “Though next time, give him a bigger gun.” That earned a smattering of laughter from the press corps, but I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Apparently, this prompted internet users across the English-speaking world to create thousands of images of King George wielding increasingly ludicrous weapons. When he went before the Anti-Demonic League Council to request more funding for Ireland’s defense, the memes went into high gear, and Give Him a Bigger Gun t-shirts were everywhere one looked for a few months. It became a mark of defiance in the UK for a generation, like the Gadsden Flag in the old United States. I still see it pop up occasionally all these years later.

There are some who posit that it was all artificial, with accusations that it originated from King George’s PR department. I don’t know one way or the other, though I couldn’t put it past him.

Never saw a dime from it, naturally. It shows the importance of protecting your intellectual property.

Of course, I couldn’t be sure that the League had believed me. As I said, their fabricata-obscured faces and voices were inscrutable. At the very minimum, they didn’t harass me as I left the country for my mysterious new assignment.

I corrected myself; our mysterious new assignment. Once Mariko and Kiyo had passed medical examination, having dodged long term side effects from Fera’s presence, we were cleared to fly.

Kiyo had amused herself on the way over by burying her face in her GoSato console, since she assured us both that she was “way behind”.

She finally put it away as we exited our plane, though I think she only relented because it ran out of charge.

She let out a relieved sigh as she pocketed the console. “Man, I was jonesing for a good session for weeks.”

“I’m glad you got it out,” said Mariko, patting her on the head. “You should go get some eyedrops, Kiyo.”

Kiyo frowned up at the taller woman, though she tolerated the head pat. “That bad, huh?”

“I do not think you blinked the entire flight,” replied Mariko.

Kiyo nodded and went to a nearby pharmacy. Now, I didn’t think she looked too bad, but I also suspected Mariko wanted a little alone time. It hadn’t just been the two of us since the end of the Battle of the Shipyard, as the media was calling it. We stepped to the side to avoid the throngs of travelers all around us.

She rested her head on my shoulder, and we enjoyed each other’s presence for a moment.

I couldn’t help but spoil it by speaking up, of course. “It seems I’ve broken my promise to you, Mariko.”

She peered up at me from behind her glasses. “What promise?”

“What I told you in Iceland,” I replied. “I told you you’d never have to raise your hand in anger. I clearly failed you.”

“Kasasagi?” she asked, looking confused. “I thought it was…”

“It may not be your fault, Mariko,” I said. “After all, you clearly left your mark on Fera when that magic coursed through you. There’s nothing saying she didn’t bleed into you, too.”

“Kasasagi…”

In my rush to assuage her guilt, I ignored the irritated tone in her voice. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it. No reason to blame yourself; I’ll redouble my efforts to—”

“Soren Marlowe, don’t you dare!” she snapped in a tone that would have quieted a whole room full of kindergarteners.

My jaw nearly went slack at her sudden outburst. “What do you mean, Mariko?”

“Don’t you dare take away my choice,” she said. “I… I had quite a bit of time to think while I was locked up in my head. Do you know what I saw?”

“I imagine quite a bit of spy-craft and sneaking about,” I said.

“I saw a demon who literally had the whole contents of my brain and soul at her disposal, but went through with the attack anyway,” she replied. “I saw somebody who had been her lover try to talk her down, somebody who had known her for most of her life, and she rebuffed your offer to defect. Soren, if you couldn not talk down one devil who you had an inside track with, then what chance could I possibly have against an entire platoon of enemy orcs?”

I weighed her words. “Then you’ve changed your mind?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “I simply understand what people were telling me all this time. In a grand battle, there is no chance to negotiate or to plead for mercy. When I saw them bearing down upon you, I made a choice, and I am glad to live with it.”

“Then I will strive to be worthy of your sacrifice,” I said.

“You always were, Soren,” she said, hugging me tight. “And you did save us. You always were my knight in shining armor, even if all you can see is your tarnish.”

“If you wish to be so foolish, who am I to object?” I smiled, breathing in her sweet scent and the simple joy of her presence. Our lips met, and all felt right with the world.

We could have stood there like that forever… if Kiyo interrupted with loud gagging sounds. Mariko and I separated at once, and I’m sure my face was as red as hers.

“God, is that what we were like back at school?” asked Kiyo.

Mariko let out a delicate giggle. “You two were even worse.”

“Then I guess I’d rather be single than cringeworthy,” she said. “C’mon, we don’t wanna keep them waiting.”

“Don’t we?” I countered. “We don’t even know who ‘they’ are.”

“They got us out of a court martial or whatever else Sergeant Lakhdar was gonna do to us,” said Kiyo. “That tells me we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Though, with you two at my side, I’ll take my chances with all the hosts of the Dark Lord himself.”

It turned out that was rather close to what we were being tasked with. However, that is a tale for another day.

---

And it's a wrap! This book has been a lot of fun to plot out and write (and a challenge at times, which I take to be a good thing), and I got to pay off some plans I've had going back to when I was writing Infiltration and Demonkin. As is usually the case when I end a book, there will be a roughly month long break until there's new chapters on here.

With the length of the novel, it's going to be a while until I get it edited down and on Amazon, so there's no worries about Book 6 being taken down any time soon.

The next story will be another spinoff, this time focusing on Hiro and Yukiko. Unlike Rose's novel, Stranded, I'm going to post The Snow Maiden here when the time comes. So, watch this space and the new stuff will be dropping some time in may.

And as always, thanks for reading!