Page 9 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

A delightful tremor knocked half the artifacts in the repository off their pedestals. Nicked, broken, or simply freed. I wriggled and writhed inside the orb, hoping to knock it off the mantle. Shatter it to pieces. It didn’t budge.

“I have to call someone.” Worthless Walter scrambled into the repository, face terror-stricken, talking aloud again. His tedious need for auditory processing. Blegh. His expression, though… That held such intrigue. Perhaps this glitch with the wards held more ramifications than my limited perspective allowed me to see.

He reached for his phone, scrolling through it. “Carl is dead. We’re being attacked. I can’t confirm that. What can…wh-what can I…” He clutched the phone close to his chest, hyperventilating. “What do I know?The estate’s been infiltrated. All the wards are broken. Shit. So much is damaged.”

Well, well, well. An interesting turn of events, indeed. I slithered silently inside my orb, eager for Walter’s words now.

He scurried toward a stone tablet. The corner snapped right off, and Walter’s breathing slowed as he sank into sorrow for whatever lost history had crumbled to dust. “Portals are down. A sentinel is dead. People have invaded—a vampire and mage, witch maybe. Incantation is the only magic I saw, so variables both can use. They’ll follow me into the archives. I need a plan.”

This was turning into the best day of my eternity. Best day so far. Even if I didn’t escape, the idea of attackers striking the heart of the mage territory, the Magus Estate itself, filled me with a rush that practically made my broken bits of flesh trapped inside this orb warm with delight. The political climate Remington ran had gotten worse than I could’ve ever guessed.

I cackled—and it held sound, too. My voice boomed, reverberating against the walls of the repository. The wards casting the barrier which divided me from the world had faded.

Walter’s eyes quirked, frantically studying the empty room. He lowered the tablet delicately, as though that would do any good. He heard me…but would he listen? Hmmm.

“Hey, Walter. Can you hear me?”

He backed against the wall, scanning all the artifacts. His complexion had turned ghostly, and he looked about a second away from hurling all the trepidation which consumed him. I wanted to linger in this moment, savor every second of acknowledgment, yet time was short.

“Answer me.”

“Who’s there?” He grabbed the wand he often relied on for manipulating already conjured incantations, a true bauble among the trove of treasures in the repository. “I should warn you, I’m a skilled practitioner who has full understanding of every item in this room, so you’re—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Walter. No one’s buying it. Especially not me.”

A wispy breath escaped his lips, and his entire body convulsed as his gaze met the orb high on the mantle. “Bez?”

“Yes.” Having him beneath me, awestruck and frightened, was a pleasant sight after so long being ignored and overlooked.

“You’re talking, which means you’re aware.”

“Always have been,” I growled.

“Always?” He gulped, perhaps evaluating all the conversations he’d shared—I use the term loosely—in the three years since he’d landed a position in the repository. “That’s…that’s awful. But if I can hear you now, that means all the wards are down and—”

“You already know this. You literally just expressed this. Keep up with your frantic little beehive of a mind, Walter.” I shifted within the orb, coiling my discombobulated form round and round, which drew the little mage’s attention. “Tell me. How do you plan on escaping these invaders?”

“I have to call someone. Alert the magus. The sentinels. Send for the vanguard.”

“Pretty sure everyone knows something’s up.”

“Right. Carl… He used elemental magic before he…before he died.” He choked on the word, tears building behind his glasses. “Such force.”

Walter scanned the busted artifacts strewn about. His somber expression was a perplexing sight. Was he sad about this mage or the state of his favorite room in the entire world?

An adventitious opportunity had presented itself, and I needed to carefully cultivate the right way to manipulate Walter. Something that’d convince him here and now I was his only chance of survival.

The door rattled, and I snickered. I might very well be his only hope of survival.

“No one will reach you in time. But if you release me, I’ll take care of the threat.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Of course he wouldn’t agree. That kind of suggestion required more time than either of us had.

“You’re going to die. This threat will take all of five seconds to slaughter you, the lowly apprentice who can’t master one magic.”

Walter squirmed. My conversation skills had gotten rusty, and they weren’t the best to begin with.

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