Page 46 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

Why would he send Ian to grab me? Was this some plan to separate me from Bez? To what end? Did Al not trust me to handle this? Was he worried for my safety? I’d never seen him and Ian interact. Their sentinel squads certainly didn’t work the same districts or caseloads. Everything must be all hands on deck with the attack on the Magus Estate, though, and the roaming devil with his misfit mage, namely me. I gulped.

“I’m glad we got away from that devil,” Ian said in a way that conveyed his relief.

“We haven’t.” I pressed a hand to my chest. It was the lightest pull, like a string wrapped around my ribs guiding me toward Bez. He must’ve felt something similar. “You need to go.”

“It’s enough distance for what comes next.” Ian smiled.

“Are you planning something?” Had Alistair found a way to contain the devil? Good. Bez couldn’t be trusted, clearly. I wanted him to have a chance, but he’d only use freedom to slaughter anyone and everyone on whatever Diabolic whims motivated him.

“I want you to know I tried so hard to ensure the blame didn’t fall on you.”

“What?” My head swirled into a hundred paranoid what-ifs on Ian’s meaning of blame, but as per usual, I had to be overthinking this.

“It had to be you, though. We needed access to the repository, to the vault. But I tried to give you every opportunity to get out early. Even offered you an alibi.” Ian brushed a hand along my cheek, kind and comforting, like he really cared about me. He didn’t, though. Ian shrugged. “Pretty sure the chancellors would’ve still blamed you, given the chancellor in charge wanted to find a way to pin everything on an Alden mage.”

Chancellor Driscoll. Al was right.

Ian playfully patted my shoulder as I pieced together this revelation. No. Not playfully—the gesture itself, the expression on his face, the words pouring out of his mouth all had a patronizing tone.

“Lay all the blame at your feet to feed some bullshit mage political agenda when clamoring for power.” Ian chuckled, tracing sigils in the air with his fingertips, and I shrank into myself, finding such expert-leveled skill intimidating, impossible to match. The air buzzed with his saturated mana and hummed to the tune of his incantation. “When I first sought you out, I didn’t care much for the spoiled incompetent guy who couldn’t control any of the Pentacles of Power.”

“Sought me out?”

“But the more I got to know you, the more I liked what you represented.”

“What I represented?” I squeezed the grimoire, furious he’d played me, used me, framed me, but mostly hurt because that gnawing insecurity whispering in the back of my head was absolutely right—someone like Ian would never find someone as worthless as me interesting.

“Still, I’m not interested in the Collective’s agenda for controlling the magic of this world or the Mythic Council demanding the importance behind secrecy. I want free magic for everyone. You understood that, which was why I liked you. You wanted to share the wealth of knowledge hidden in the archives with the world. Not like Remington, a decrepit relic himself, attempting to right his own wrongs. I don’t think he chose to give back because he cared. I think he knew, felt, the tides turning against him, and hoped to shore up some allegiances.” Ian laughed, running a hand through his black hair, ruffling it. “A lot of good it did the old fool.”

“You attacked the Magus Estate. You killed Magus Remington and everyone else. How’d you—”

“I embedded the virus to hack the system into your key card. That’s why I didn’t want you there. At the very least, they might’ve suspected someone else set you up. Could’ve bought you time until the next phase. We could’ve been so happy.”

“Why?”

“I went my entire life without magic, only blessed for a privileged invitation because of a chance encounter and the skill I hold.” Ian continued looping sigils together. “Imagine how much magic could offer the world if we stopped hiding it away. Why is it fair the masses only gain insight into this beautiful world through chance, luck, and extreme talent?”

The sigils glowed brighter. Based on the formation and symbols used, this was some type of summoning incantation. It’d instantly transport anything the spellcaster desired. Was he planning on teleporting me far away from Bez? Too far for the tether to follow? How far would that be?

“The Collective and the Mythic Council have tried co-existence. It only leads to worse things,” I said calmly, fighting so hard to remain composed.

“Does it, though?” Ian cocked his head. “Or is that some Collective-Mythic propaganda to keep infinite resources contained to a very tiny population. Personally, I think they just like the power. Can’t blame them. I enjoy the power, too. Just not the politics.”

“You’re a misfit mage,” I said with a creak.

“You’re the only misfit mage here. Killing our magus. Plotting with radical Mythics. Unleashing a Diabolic.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue with a mocking tsk.

“Whoever you’re working with, other Mythics and mages, you can’t seriously think Driscoll or any chancellors would allow this. You’re being played.”

“Oh, I understand that. But my part in this has opened so many doors and given me two of the best things from the vault. The first being Agatha’s Heart to further enhance my magic, which will ensure I avoid my co-conspirator’s plans for tying up loose ends like me. Like you, Wally, I always plan ten moves ahead. Unlike you, I don’t doubt myself in the process because I know I’m better. Destined. Filled with purpose.”

Agatha’s Heart. That explained his behavior. It held a dangerous side effect of souring the mind to achieve the heart’s desire. But he wouldn’t have felt that effect when first attacking the estate. He did that of his own volition. The artifact simply made it possible for Ian to hold his own against Bez here and back during their battle at the estate. No. He’d always had superior skills. Had he been chosen and influenced from the very start? To what extent? Provoke a war? A change in policy?

“Now that I’m inside, I’m going to tear the whole thing down. Starting with you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to frame me.”

“I didn’t.” A tiny white portal opened, and Ian stuck his hand inside, retrieving a dagger covered in mysterious symbols. I faintly recognized them. “If you’d left like I’d asked, you’d be fine. But no. You stayed, bound yourself to that Diabolic. A devil, no less. I tried to save you in the repository. I killed that ghoul before she’d recovered. I wanted to kill that Diabolic while still possessing poor, pathetic Riley, but they say devils don’t die. I watched that essence worm inside you, changing you, protecting you, so I did what I’d learned from you. I researched and found this lovely blade inside the vault.”

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