Song of the Day | Punch in the Face by Frenzal Rhomb| Spotify | YouTube
Captain Esther Pereira was short and muscular, and zig-zagged all over with scars. She wore fitted black modern tactical armour that added to her swagger and air of menace. Soda hurried to keep up with her purposeful stride through the grand hallways of House Orleans. It was as busy as any large corporate office, and people were rushing about looking harried while various monitors blinked and buzzed with alarms. Despite the busyness and barely contained chaos, people seemed to find ways to avoid the Captain.
They entered a ballroom hastily converted into a research area with huge stacks of books, computers, phones and a mess of wires running everywhere. She was surprised by all the tech but she didn’t know why. Was she expecting quills and parchment? The entire place fizzed with tension. More than one person gave Soda a pitying or concerned look. Soda considered herself: scratched and battered, wrapped in a blanket with bare feet stumbling after an alleged war criminal. Yeah, fair.
“Um, excuse me Captain. Sir. Ma’am? Fuck. Sorry.” Soda’s face flushed with embarrassment as Pereira turned to her.
“Just Captain will do, Jones.”
Was there a shadow of a smile on her stern face? Maybe. Soda resolved to win a laugh from her. See if that made her less terrifying.
“Can I get some clothes and shoes please? This feels like a walk of shame except you have a thousand housemates.”
A flicker of amusement. “Already organised. They’re waiting for you in the war rooms.”
“War rooms? Is this a war?”
The captain’s face became stern again. “Yes Jones, this is a war. When this started four days ago, there were fifteen category one Covenant violations. By the next day it was five hundred. Now they’re breaking out spontaneously all over the world. This means incidents that are dangerous enough to put lives at risk.” Her jaw tightened. “The Brigade has joined House Orleans forces to help address the most serious situations, with the largest potential damage.”
Soda bit her lip. She hadn't really been thinking about the innocent people dealing with all this nonsense.
“What’s like, the worst thing so far? Is it the kraken?”
“No. Currently feasting on the Pacific Garbage Patch. Maybe we’ll keep it.”
“Wow, okay. Is it the mountain giants in South America? They’re literally giants made of mountains.”
“No Jones.”
“What then?”
“I’m dealing with it currently.”
Soda stopped walking. Pereira stopped too and turned to her impatiently, keeping her voice low.
“I know you have no understanding of the magnitude of what’s happening here but let me assure you that you are currently the biggest threat to humanity. Now, please, come with me to the hall where we can teach you some basic safety training.”
Soda was struck silent. She hurried after the captain. A little part of her also grabbed onto a thought: the most dangerous person in the world. Dangerous. Soda had never been dangerous before.
A few minutes later Soda was standing opposite the captain in black fatigues and boots. They were in another large empty ballroom, complete with extremely rococo gilded trims and chandeliers, and a vast parquetry floor. It looked to Soda like an empty casino. There was something else: another room within the room, made of spun silver, its roof finishing before the chandeliers and its walls closer on each side. Soda snuck a feel, sticking her finger into it as they walked past and marvelling at how she could feel the spells telling her things. Commands of hardness, of splitting, of absorbing and diffusing. So interesting! It was getting easier by the minute.
“Did those two idiots teach you anything useful yet?”
“No, they wouldn’t let me do any magic. Then it just started happening by accident.”
“Of course it did. You’re carrying an extremely concentrated magical conduit. It will be looking for a way to release the pressure.”
“Do you think it could be…like… sentient? Take me over or something?”
“It could be anything, nobody’s dealt with objects of this power in over a thousand years. There’s barely a soul alive who can tell us. Why, has it given you any reason to think that?” Her voice turned sharp.
“No,” said Soda hurriedly. “Just a weird fear.”
“It’s sensible to be wary. Magic channelled like this can carry some of its original wielder with it.”
“Is that why some people’s magic has a colour, or a smell?”
“Exactly. You can mask it, but many people are proud of what it says about them.”
Soda thought about the fight at Lune’s. The captain’s magic had been sulphurous yellow. She wondered what that said about her.
“You can’t see it, but there’s a strong protection spell around this room which should contain any… mistakes.”
Soda said nothing. She was working on keeping her big damn mouth shut. But it might be important to mention the thing.
“Oh! Uh that reminds me. I took this thing? An ambrosia seed. Does that change how we do this?”
Pereira paused to consider.
“No. The seed is immensely powerful, but it has limits. And it will only protect you from the effects of spells, not weapons or projectiles.”
“How come it didn’t work on the thing Rowan was trying to use to catch me?”
“I think it did work, to an extent. Ordinarily those devices are almost instantaneous, like a bomb.”
“Oh… I see. This is all very complicated.”
“Yes, and we don’t have much time, so please pay attention. Magic is in almost everything, to greater or lesser extents.” Pereira adopted a lecturing tone. “You can call it to you from anywhere, but you will probably feel an affinity for certain kinds of magic more than others. Elemental affiliations are the most common. Water, earth, air, fire. But there are others.”
“What’s your affiliation?”
“Metals. Stop interrupting. All spells have a basic structure. Summon, shape, release. Call the magic, shape it to your will, release it from you. Repeat it back to me.”
“Summon, shape, release.”
“Again.”
“Summon, shape, release.”
“Keep repeating it to yourself. There are many modifiers, but that framework will be enough for a basic shield. You made one back at the townhouse. Do you think you could do it again?”
“I don’t know? Maybe?”
“No maybes, Jones! Shields are versatile, depending on what you need. When you shape, you’re telling it what it needs to be. No asking. You can’t be unsure of yourself, or the magic will go awry. Willpower is everything.”
Pereira took a deep breath, then struck a defensive stance with one foot slightly behind the other, arms up. She gave a sharp exhale and put one arm up in a fist as though she was gripping something. In her hand, a solid metal shield appeared, rippling with an oily yellow sheen.
“You see? Summon, shape, release. Stand there.”
She marched back across to the far side of the silvery space.
“I’m going to give you three turns with the tennis ball to get your shield right. Then it will be bricks.”
“Holy fuckin’ shit!”
“Are you repeating?”
“Fuck. Summon, shape, release. Summon, shape, release. This is fine. This is easy. I’m definitely sure of myself.”
“Put your shield up.”
“Jeez I just need a minute!”
A tennis ball slammed into Soda at Venus Williams speeds, right in the guts. She doubled over, all the wind knocked out of her.
"Owwww!"
Another tennis ball was already hurtling towards her. Panicking, she called to the magic of the Stone. Time slowed. There was other magic all around her, she could feel it the minute she reached out. But it was all so pale and insipid compared to the fierce molten gold that was brimming inside the Stone. Summon, shape, release. But it was too late. It spilled out of her hands just as the tennis ball hit her in the shoulder. Her arm went dead and limp, the gold spattering away to nothing. Gritting her teeth around her curses, she tried to call it again. Pereira grinned across the room, another tennis ball materialising.
“Hard," Soda muttered desperately. "Hard like, like wood. No wait, like titanium!”
The shield coalesced in front of her, and time sped back up. The third tennis ball came, and shattered the surface of the shield. The ball got Soda right in the face, but it had been slowed at least, so she didn’t get knocked unconscious. She did, however, get a spectacular blood nose that started running all down her front quite dramatically.
“Awww shit! What happened?”
“Were you sure enough? You better be sure! The next one is a brick!” Pereira’s smile widened cruelly and she raised her hand.
Soda squeaked in fear but clarity finally gripped her. The shield went up, oozing around her like honey. The brick sailed towards her like a missile, thudded into the shield wetly, then glopped to the floor.
“Good! Thinking creatively! Again!”
Soda grimaced, her teeth bloody. This time the shield looked rigid, but when the brick slammed into it, it bounced, caving inward then slingshotting back across the room directly at the captain. She dodged with inhuman speed, letting it hit the invisible wall and puff into rubble. She let out a brief bark of laughter. Victory! Unfortunately, it didn’t make her any less scary. The third brick was caught by a big, crude, golden hand that reached out to meet it on its way over. Pereira looked about as pleased as such a hard face could manage.
A towel popped into Soda’s hands in a little yellow puff. She tried to wipe the blood off her face and throat as best she could, but she was sure she was just smearing it around. Her nose felt bulbous and burning.
“Very good Jones! We’ll make you useful yet! Now we’re going to focus on defence and evasion. You will incapacitate only, am I clear?”
“Yes ma’am, Captain. I don’t have it in me to kill anybody.”
“Well then, try not to kill anybody with stupidity or incompetence either.”
Soda winced. She thought she was generally pretty competent. She got good marks and her teachers had always said she had lots of promise. She could run the bookshop in her sleep. And she thought she was doing a good job at Reaxn. Wasn’t she? They hadn’t thought twice about replacing her. And what else could she do? Cook? Clean? Barely. Drive? Also barely. Plan big financial decisions? Nope. Fight a war? Laughable.
Pereira strode back across the room and grabbed her by the cheeks in a pincer grip, which might have been comical due to their height difference but it was hurting Soda’s tender swelling face and she didn’t feel like laughing.
“Hey! Jones! Look at me! This is not the time to mope about whether or not you’re good enough. You’re it. You have no choice. I have no choice. And if we can’t fix this problem together, then we’re all going to die.”
She’d been trying to stay above it. The idea that she had to do something important. When had she ever done anything important? Pereira released her and she scrunched her tender nose, sending a fresh trickle of blood running. She dabbed at it.
“I'm sorry. I’ve never had to do anything like this before. I’m trying to take it seriously.”
“Malditos niños egoístas que creen que el mundo gira a su alrededor…”
She strode back to the other side of the room.
"Are you ready?"
Soda shook herself all over, slapped her own face a few times, then winced as it stung horribly. Stupid idea. The Stone sang a song only she could hear. It wanted to be used! She wanted to know how.
“Okay, let’s go!”
They practiced various spells and techniques for the next two hours. Shields, dodges, ways to disarm an armed opponent, ways to trap and incapacitate an opponent without hurting them. It went on until Soda was red and sweaty and crusty with leftover flakes of dried blood. She felt as if she’d run a marathon.
“I’m gonna pass out if you don’t have any more special tea for me." She was bent double, trying to catch her breath.
“Can’t use magic to cure magical exhaustion. It’s like drinking your own piss in the desert. You’re not really getting rehydrated.”
“Okay cool, that’s gross, and good to know, but like, I'm fucked. I need a break."
“Very well. We can stop for now.”
Pereira strode off with purpose towards the rear door. Staff hurried past, shooting worried glances at the captain and sometimes Soda. Through the far doorway she could just make out the computer room she saw earlier. She was pondering the nature of magic computers so intently she didn't hear Rene’s impeccably-suited servant appear beside her. She glanced over, shrieked and briefly glowed golden.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you scared me!”
He frowned disapprovingly, but handed her a regular blue sports drink.
“This is the next best thing to magic tea hey?”
He didn't look at her, but gave one firm nod.
“Cheers then."
She glugged some blessedly cold salty sugar water and stretched her aching muscles. Her visitor vanished as silently as he’d appeared.
She had a very different understanding of magic now, she had to admit. The power of the Stone felt limitless but also hard to steer, and it absolutely had a will of its own. It wasn’t the same presence she felt when she talked to the Stone either. This was wild and furious, like a hurricane straining to be let out. It frightened her, and made her understand Rowan’s fears a little more. Would it really have been so bad if Rowan had gotten the Stone? Then she could've stayed home with Mick and Kitty. Let someone else have the adventure. The responsibility. No. No, there was clearly something terribly wrong with Rowan. And Evangeline? Hard to say. She didn’t feel like trusting anybody, but at least Pereira had been honest with her and taught her some important things. Even if she was scary as fuck. And Rene Mwangi? Absolutely not, strong villain vibes, avoid at all costs.
As though the thought had summoned him, Mwangi appeared through the entrance door, his mysterious servant a few steps behind.
“Loup says you’re ready enough. We have to go.”
“Um, I’m pretty filthy, can I have a shower?” Soda gestured to her sweat and blood-soaked face and clothes.
Mwangi’s face twitched with genteel disgust, then he sighed and made a short twisting gesture. Soda could feel an invisible shadow sweeping across the surface of her body, then a strange pulling sensation. He flicked his fingers, sending all the gross stuff from her skin and clothing into the air where it dissolved. She was clean and dry again. Horrible. Smooth, slippery, formless. His wasn’t anything like the magic she’d seen so far. She shivered and rubbed her arms.
“Is something wrong, Miss Jones?” The Patron's face was a challenge.
“I would’ve preferred the shower,” she muttered, cowed.
Nobody else seemed to notice that his magic was all wrong.
“Come along. Now we can show you the truth.” He was already turning and leaving the room with the utmost confidence that she would follow.
To her discomfort, she did. Evangeline joined their silent procession a few minutes later and beamed at Soda, falling in with her behind Mwangi and Loup.
“Captain Pereira says you took to the training extremely well."
“If you call taking a tennis ball to the face doing well!" But the corners of her mouth lifted a little.
Her face was extremely tender, and she felt quietly proud about it. It was nice to think that maybe she could do something except run screaming or faint when faced with danger.
“Eighty percent of new recruits take a brick to the face! It’s supposed to be a forceful lesson on the danger of fighting with magic.”
“God that’s a bit brutal isn’t it?” Soda winced, imagining her face shattering.
“We repair the bones immediately,” shrugged Evangeline. “You’ll experience worse in the Brigade. And we want to be the best.”
Imagining her face un-shattering really didn’t help Soda’s queasiness. But she had to admit she had certainly improved rapidly with the strategy.
“The Brigade’s barbaric practices are not the usual way to learn magic. Your organisation was disbanded for good reason." Mwangi didn't look around, growling at them over his shoulder.
“Soda would still be learning to read Latin at your precious university,” countered Evangeline in what was clearly an old argument. “She’d be ten years away from being useful and reality would collapse on itself.”
“I’ve already had enough university thanks!"
“Maybe if you had attended the university,” Mwangi went on as though Soda hadn’t spoken, “you would not have done something so dangerous and reckless and imperilled us all.”
“Maybe if the Enclave would get up out of the crypt and try to face the future I wouldn’t have felt so desperate."
“Enough! I will not be lectured by you about leadership when you have failed so ignominiously.”
“I won’t apologise for trying to make the world a better place!”
Evangeline was shouting passionately, her face alive with fervour. Soda would say she’d always been a leftie, a believer in socially progressive causes, but that had never translated into anything real, had it? Pereira probably relished the violence a little too much, but Evangeline seemed filled with both purpose and willingness to act on her convictions. And she admitted her mistakes. Nobody else in this circus was willing to do that. Well, except for Red. Yeah, but the other half of admitting your mistakes is not bloody doing them over and over. Fuck that guy.
Everyone was stewing to themselves (well, Loup was totally impassive, so unclear what he was doing, maybe thinking about knitting) as Mwangi led them outside. They headed down a wide gravel promenade lined with ancient, enormous hedging. This is proper aristocrat shit. Soda tried to peer through the thick hedging to the grounds on the other side, and caught glimpses of vast formal gardens beyond. At the other end of the promenade was a low sandstone building flanked by Roman columns. They approached the large doors at speed and they swung open soundlessly. This whole place was for him, wasn’t it? Just an absolutely unfathomable amount of money. And power. Was this really the right choice? Well, she had to press on for now. They swept down a short flight of stairs to a large echoing marble chamber that looked a like a mausoleum. It was filled from floor to ceiling with large stones arranged the same as the ones on Lune’s lawn.
“Hey Evangeline—" Soda tried to be quiet, but her voice bounced and echoed around the chamber. She winced and dropped to a whisper. “How come we don’t just do the, you know…” She made a popping sound with her lips. “Why even use the Gates?”
“That’s very hard and exhausting, whereas this is just uncomfortable and doesn’t use any of your own magic.”
“Oh, that makes sense. What magic does it use?”
Mwangi turned to them, scowling as their voices bounced over themselves. Soda pursed her lips together in apology.
The Patron turned back to the gate and raised a hand, briefly gathering little motes of magic, which Soda studied carefully. Shadowy, shot through with glitter. She knew whose magic that was. So Lune and their siblings made the gates work? She wondered if that was their punishment, and again, what they’d done to deserve it. The gate materialised and Evangeline gestured Soda through. Pereira appeared at the last moment and all five of them stepped through together.
Chapter Fourteen: A Forceful Lesson
Being dangerous, learning the hard way, whose magic is being used?