James had learned not to question Midoriko—about anything, really—but especially about PMC training. Even so, he felt a few questions bubbling up when she took the first-year recruits on a nighttime expedition… and led them right to the same spot he’d taken Suki on their first date.

  “We’re not here to make out, so contain your disappointment,” she stated.

  James was sure she was joking, but a few murmurs in the group suggested that some of the guys had been harbouring hopes.

  “Why are we here, then, Senpai?” he asked.

  “For the view,” Midoriko said. She pointed at the sea below. James couldn’t see much in the darkness, just the crests of a few waves, glinting in the moonlight.

  “What are we looking for?” one of the recruits asked.

  “You’ll see it in a bit,” Midoriko said. “We’re going to show you a lesson.”

  “You mean, teach us a lesson?” Mitsue said.

  “No, show. The lesson isn’t for you. But as you are all part of this island’s defences, you should know something about the rest of them.”

  James could see them now—narrow, low-slung hulls. The drone of motors just audible above the sound of waves. The three small boats crept cautiously through the surf, their pale grey hulls shining in the moonlight.

  “Most of our adversaries know better than to attack us directly,” Midoriko said, casting a quick glance at the incoming vessels. “But there’s always someone new who needs to be taught that the PMC isn’t our only defence. Anyone want to guess what the other defences are?”

  “Magic?” another recruit asked. James looked over in surprise. He hadn’t seen any of the students talk about magic before. Except for his friends. And the occult club. And a few other magical monsters…

  James tucked his surprise away and told it to take a nap.

  “Magic? Toudou Ema asked scornfully. “You mean like a big magic circle that covers the island?”

  “Not like that,” Midoriko agreed. “The Administration prefers to work more subtly.”

  The students all looked at each other uneasily. Midoriko hadn’t denied they used magic, and not all of the students were comfortable with the idea that magic might be real.

  “Information,” Midoriko said. “From ordinary espionage methods, of course, but also from divinations.”

  “You mean that Occult Club nonsense is real?” Toudou Ema asked incredulously.

  “Some of it is. Not much. The point is that, long before these boats arrived, we were warned that they would.”

  “So why aren’t we waiting on the beach?” Ema asked. “We can’t intercept them from here.”

  “We manage security on campus,” Midoriko reminded her. “With certain exceptions. These guys will be handled by someone else. Watch.”

  It was hard to see. The water was already dark. James first saw it on the wake of the boats as they drew near to shore. Darker shadows, thin like snakes, were creeping across the water towards the unsuspecting invaders.

  “There they are,” Midoriko said with satisfaction, just as the first shadows started crawling up the sides of the approaching boats. There were sudden shouts, and then screams. Figures—hard to make out in dark clothing—were being dragged off the boats and into the water. The boats slowed, then stopped.

  “What’s… doing that?” One of the recruits said.

  “Our allies,” Midoriko said. “Or so the Administration say. I wouldn’t have any truck with them on the lands of our temple. The warning we received was passed to them, and they… take care of the problem.”

  “But who… what are they?” Ema whispered.

  “Iso-onna,” Midoriko replied.

  “Mermaids?” James asked, taking a guess from the construction of the word.

  “No, ningyo are a closer match to the Western monster. Iso-onna sometimes have a fish-like lower half, but their chief characteristic is their hair. As you can see.”

  Midoriko spoke calmly and clinically, never taking her eyes off the scene below. The screams had stopped now; the boats were empty. More shadows, that James could identify now as coiled strands of hair, slipped over the sides and started to tilt the hulls, capsizing them and dragging them underwater.

  “Are… are they going to die?” One of the recruits asked.

  “No.” Midoriko spoke flatly, still watching the last of the boats slip into the sea. “Part of the… arrangement is that they are all delivered to us alive. The iso-onna do take their pound of flesh, but you can live without a limb.”

  She spun around and clapped her hands. “And with that, our show is complete! You won’t need to know more about this unless you should happen to join the Student Council in the future. Class dismissed!”

  She shooed the class back along the narrow path, but didn’t follow them immediately. When James moved to take his place in line, she held him back.

  “A moment of your time, James-san.”

  “What is it?” he asked when the rest of the group had moved out of earshot. Mitsue had wanted to hang back, but a glance from Midoriko sent him on his way.

  “Those boats were sent to pick up your charges,” Midoriko said. “That’s why we were watching from here; if we’d been on the beach, they would have hidden themselves and not seen the result of their actions.”

  “Those were aliens?” James asked, managing to keep his voice down.

  “No, ordinary humans hired over the Internet.”

  “But how? They don’t have any phones.”

  “Our puny telecommunications security protocols are trivial to defeat, according to what I’ve been told.”

  James blinked. He wasn’t sure what that meant. Had the aliens rigged up an iPhone out of the circuitry in a rice-cooker?

  “Why are you just telling me this?” he asked.

  Midoriko shook her head and sighed. “You know that Mitsue has allowed himself to be compromised.”

  “You know about Sundhara? I would have thought you would have…”

  “Forbidden it? We’re students, not the military. We’re here to learn. Which means, sometimes, making mistakes.”

  “So you want me to keep this from him?”

  “Tell him whatever you want,” Midoriko sighed again. “It won’t make a difference to the result.”

  “I can’t believe that,” James said.

  Midoriko shrugged. “That’s why I’m leaving the decision to you,” she said. “It, too, is a lesson. Think of it as preparation for when you’re standing in my shoes.”

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “You think I’m going to join the Student Council?”

  “Most of the ones that the Administration takes an interest in do. The ones that survive, anyway.”

  “That’s… disturbing.”

  “You’ll get used to it. Speaking of prophecies, didn’t Miyamoto-san leave you with one of your very own? You should look into that.”

  * * *

  “This is a mistake,” James said.

  “It cannot be a mistake, as I am involved,” Kana replied. “Whatever the outcome turns out to be, you can rest assured it was the best possible one.”

  “I wish that I could share your confidence, Kana-san,” Mitsue said mildly. “I still don’t understand why we should give such credence to the Occult Club President’s words.”

  “Prophecy,” James said, with just a hint of bitterness.

  “Even if we admit to the possibility of prophecy being real, that doesn’t mean we pay heed to Miyamoto-san,” Mitsue complained.

  “It’s about building trust,” James said. “If he can prophesy accurately, we’d be pretty dumb to ignore him. Handing out these tidbits establishes his credibility.”

  “And what does he gain from having us do his bidding?” Mitsue muttered darkly.

  “It is a waste of time to speculate on the intentions of anyone who can see the future, however misted their visions might be,” Kana declared. “They act according to dictates we cannot see and cannot judge the validity of.”

  James stared at Kana. “Is that something you read somewhere?”

  “Not at all. It is a philosophy that I inherited from my mother,” Kana stated proudly. “And since you never can tell who has the gift of prophecy, it is a waste of time considering the motives of anyone lesser than you. Judge them by their actions, on how well they align with your goals.”

  "That sure is a… philosophy,” James managed. “Getting back to the original subject… If things go well, as he said they would, then we’ve gained something and learned something.”

  “And if they do not?” Mitsue asked grimly.

  “That’s why Suki isn’t here,” James said. “And since Harue has a talent for turning a mistake into a disaster, neither is she.”

  “Aw, you say the nicest things!” Harue’s voice came out of thin air, a little ahead of the group. “Too bad you’re a hundred years too young to keep something from me!”

  “Damnit!” James swore. “I thought this had better odds than just asking you not to come.”

  “Yeah, your odds would be pretty low on that one as well. I’m really excited to meet a new demon!”

  “As am I,” Kana agreed. “I am eager to learn if oni taste as well as Mother remembered.”

  “You can’t eat him, Kana,” James sighed.

  “Oh? What if he turns out to be… evil?”

  James could hear her quote marks around the word, as if it had a strange feel in her mouth.

  “If he is, we do our best to keep him contained and send for reinforcements if we think we can’t,” James said firmly.

  “Seems unfair,” Harue said. “You want to keep him imprisoned just because of who he is.”

  “He hasn’t stopped boasting about taking over the world,” James pointed out. “If there’s a chance he can…”

  “If there were, the Administration would have sent someone,” Harue countered.

  “They sent us.” James didn’t want to think of himself as some heavy-hitting action hero, but he was coming to terms with the fact that other people disagreed. “They sent us, because they believe—for whatever reason—”

  He waved his hands about to properly convey his vague understanding of the decision-making process.

  “—that we’re the best people for the job.”

  “We are,” Kana stated confidently. “I am, at least. The rest of you will have to muddle through.”

  James gave Kana a sour look, which she ignored.

  “Careful with what you say,” he said. “We’re entering the range where he can hear us.”

  Sure enough, it was only a few steps more before the gloating voice sounded in his head.

  “Ah, future minions, you have picked an auspicious day to swear allegiance.”

  “We’re not gonna do anything like that,” James said aloud. “We’re—”

  He cut himself off. There was a hole in the cliff that hadn’t been there before.

  “Did you do that?” he demanded as he ran towards it.

  “Do what?” the voice asked. “Unravel the penultimate binding holding me in place? Take one step closer to freedom?”

  “Make the new cave,” James said grimly. Looking more closely, the cave didn’t appear to be new. There was no freshly broken rock, and the edges looked as weather-worn as all the other caves nearby. It was new, though. He had examined the cliff face several times now, and this particular cave had not been there.

  “The cave? The cave has always been here, taunting me with the possibility of freedom. I suppose…”

  The voice started chuckling evilly.

  “I suppose there might have been some kind of illusion tied to one of the wards I dispelled. It would explain why none of the worthless sea-birds would approach to nourish me with their blood.”

  “What’s so funny about that?” James asked.

  “Just that if you cannot see through such a minor illusion, you will surely be easy prey for my magics, once I am free. Your future minionhood is all but inevitable.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” James said dismissively. “I think we need to go inside,” he said to the others, who had caught up with him.

  “Do not approach! Not with hostile intent!” the voice commanded, but James paid it no heed. One of the notable things about the new cave was how low on the cliff face it was. He could easily step up into it. The others followed him.

  Without saying anything, Harue conjured up some foxfire to light their way. They had agreed to keep conversation to a minimum, as a way of keeping the oni in the dark.

  There was still a little light from the outside when they found the first sigil. It was followed by hundreds more, carved into the rough surface of the rock as if it were the finest parchment. James took a moment to appreciate the complexity and scale of the design. He couldn’t understand it, but he could tell it was a work of such skill and precision that it transcended mere art.

  All of what they could see was burned out. Blackened soot covered and marred the clean, elegant lines. James wasn’t sure how he could tell, but he knew this formation would never work again.

  “This is incredible,” he said involuntarily. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  That might not be saying much, since his experience with magic was strictly limited. But he knew that the broken design in front of him exceeded anything he’d heard about.

  “You think that impressive?” the voice crowed. “Consider the achievement of the one who overcame it! Truly, I am the mightiest of mages!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” James said, moving forward gingerly. The burned-out sigils were on the floor, like every other surface, and he hesitated to step on them. They were dormant and inactive, though, so his feet had no further effect.

  It was a few more steps, taken in the flickering light of Harue’s foxfire, before he saw an active formation, gleaming with a sickly red glow. A few steps more, and the final containment ward came into view, along with its contents.

  “Are you—” James couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Are you the one who’s been talking to me?”

  Suspended against the wall in a spread-eagled position was… a boy of about James’s age. Pale skin and black hair, dressed in a tattered tunic, he looked like a helpless victim.

  Then he looked up and glared at James with hate-filled, glowing red eyes. Small, pointed horns poked through his thick hair, barely showing.

  “Don’t judge me by how I look,” the boy snarled. “Witness my command over forces you can barely understand!”

  “Hey! Watch out!” Harue yelled. She threw her ball of fire at the boy, but it hit a barrier about a foot away from him, drawn into the wards surrounding him.

  He laughed manically. “Fools! Your puny magic will avail you nothing until I have shattered the bonds that hold me. Have patience! I will be released soon.”

  The wards flared up, taking on a deeper crimson hue. The light running along them started to flicker.

  “This is bad!” Harue said. “I don’t think those sigils have got much left in them!”

  James summoned his armour and sword. He pointed it at the boy, who was cackling in triumph.

  “Finally, the moment is at hand!” the boy cried. “Witness the first acts of the soon-to-be Emperor Shugen!”

  With a fizzling, crackling sound, the final runes burned out, giving off one final flare of crimson light before flickering out. In the near darkness, James could barely see the boy’s scrawny body drop down from the wall and collapse in a heap on the floor.

  Then light returned as Harue summoned another foxfire.

  “Okay, so now we can throw fireballs at him, right?”

  “No,” Kana said. “As always, this fight is mine.”

  She stepped forward, claws extending out of her fingers. Shugen lifted himself to his feet, standing on his own for the first time in who knew how many years.

  “One at a time or all at once, it will make no difference,” he sneered. “You will all—wait, Mistress Dragon!”

  Kana paused, confused, as the oni threw himself at her feet, prostrating himself with his forehead to the floor.

  “Forgive this unworthy one, Mistress! He did not think that any of the Master Race survived!”

  “You are speaking of Dragons,” Kana said slowly.

  “Of course, Mistress. I am still loyal to the cause! I fought for so long, but I heard that even the God-King was forced to… forced back into the Master Portal. We thought that all the Masters were dead and that all hope was lost. But you are alive!”

  “Yes,” Kana agreed. “I am alive.”

  She didn’t say anything further. James realised that she had reverted to her habit of shutting up when she didn’t know what was going on. Shugen seemed encouraged by her agreement, though, and lifted his head to glare at James.

  “You should have told me that you were minions of the Mistress!” he complained. “How could you let me talk like that in front of a true ruler!”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” James agreed. He looked at Mitsue for some clue as to what was going on, but the other boy’s face was as blank as his was. Wincing internally, he looked at Harue.

  She smirked back at him.

  “So what I’m hearing is that you’ll do whatever Kana says,” she said.

  Shugen glared up at her. “Should you be referring to the Mistress so familiarly?”

  “I’m her close, personal friend and advisor,” Harue assured him. “Isn’t that right?”

  “This is true,” Kana said, nodding.

  “I see,” Shugen reduced his glare to a sullen glower. “Then, yes, I am a loyal servant of Mistress.”

  “You may call me Kana-sama,” Kana said magnanimously. “Mistress sounds awkward in modern speech.”

  “Thank you for your generosity, Kana-sama,” Shugen bowed down again, visibly pleased by the concession.

  “Okay, yeah, so I think we’re good,” Harue said. “He’s gonna play nice and not make any trouble. We can take him back to the Student Council and see how they want to play it.”

  “Wait,” Kana said. She held up one hand while she puzzled out what had troubled her about Harue’s words.

  “Does this mean I don’t get to eat him?”