The day of learning done, the sun setting, it came time to put the operation to capture Rafel Siroquan into action. The sooner, the better. I went to the training building well ahead of Emily without making any prior contact. Being seen conspiring together would have sort of ruined the whole damn thing.

  Emily needed to keep the key, not only to get in, but to let Siroquan know which training hall she'd use. If she just casually mentioned, "By the way, I'm going to train later at hall number 4 at precisely 6.45 p.m. all alone!" even the daftest of troopers would either come prepared for a trap, or not come at all. Since that seemed precisely the sort of thing Emily would normally do, if allowed to choose, I gave her some pointers beforehand.

  If only she played with the key for a moment while the man was nearby, he wouldn’t fail to take note of the number on the linked placard, if he had any sense at all. If he couldn’t even notice that, then he was a threat to nobody. Knowing Emily, she probably still hammed up her performance and made it as ridiculous as it could be, anyway, but I could only hope for the best.

  I didn’t need the key myself, since it wasn’t a magic key; memorizing the shape of it was enough. The door had only a conventional cylinder lock without special protection. While not even Third Eye could peer through the steel of the lock frame, as long as I knew the positions of the pin tumblers, I could set them back with my ability. The only problem was doing it gently enough to not break anything. But these doors were made to last.

  With a barely audible series of clicks, the pins slid clear of the shear line, after which I could set the plug to rotate, and the door soon fell ajar.

  Unlocking the door also disabled the wards and I went in.

  On the surface, the interior of the training hall 4 was no different from the one where I'd had my duel with Alice Silla. The skylight in the middle of the slightly concave ceiling. The same shallow, hexagonal depression on the central floor with its trampled markings. The barriers discreetly arranged onto the walls, conforming to the physical dimensions of the architecture. The shock-absorbent wood paneling going one third of the way up the brick walls. The closets for supplies and practice targets.

  There were regrettably few places for a person to hide in.

  I couldn’t let myself be seen straight from the door, but needed to wait for the appropriate timing to make my appearance. But I had no talent for magical camouflage, or illusions.

  “The closet it is, then…”

  Sighing, I went to the unlocked supply cabinet and opened the door. There was just about enough room among the staves and balls and cubes and target dummies and the pile of old mats for one lightweight person. The space was also dusty and stank of dirty cloth, old sweat, and wood. Had it ever been cleaned in six hundred years?

  For how long would I have to wait there? Only the stars could know.

  “Why does this always happen to me…?”

  I crammed myself into the filthy compartment, pulled the door shut after me, and sat on the pile of rugs in sandy darkness, hugging my knees, and felt intensely stupid.

  I’d advised Emily to come after six, when there were less students moving about the grounds. Other people may not have been able to get into the hall, but I didn’t want anyone to see and keep track of who went in and who came out, either. In the event that this turned into a murder scene. But this plan of ours left me over two hours of sitting stiff in the cabinet. A soldier ought to have been used to that sort of thing, but I couldn't claim it was ever pleasant. Maybe we should've gone with the love letter plan, after all.

  Guess I’ll meditate while waiting...

  The sound of the door unlocking stirred me from my barely conscious idleness, and Emily’s distinct presence entered the hall. It was already time?

  The “scent” of her mana had intensified over the summer and the early weeks of school, and I could tell she'd obediently kept up with her training even when I wasn’t there to watch her. As her mentor, I was pleased to see her growth. Her aura was firm but stable and easy, not the slightest bit threatening, and I’d never met a mage quite like her.

  Third Eye could penetrate wood well enough, and I could observe her without exposing my hiding spot. I’d told her to act as if I weren’t there and simply practice as she normally would. The area was effectively isolated from the outside world by the wards, but it was possible our target would send a proxy to survey the scene in advance, or a staff member could come by, in which case it would be weird if she was standing alone doing nothing.

  Emily diligently went to stand in the marked area in the middle and impatiently tapped the floor with her foot.

  “Hmm. Guess I'll try that one today…”

  Was she always talking to herself when alone?

  Channeling mana, the girl began to move her hands like a conductor, weaving strange patterns in the air.

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  It was—actual ice magic? Instead of conjuring water, she'd chosen the air manipulation branch and controlled temperature to deposit surrounding humidity directly into ice. The same way as snowflakes naturally formed, but the process accelerated hundredfold.

  The solidified, colliding water crystals collected into airy, frayed reefs in front of her hands, and she moved them at will to assemble a round shape around hersef, like a tattered eggshell. A larva building a cocoon—that wasn't a comparison fit for a lady, I guess. Was the shape meant to be a defensive barrier? But it was only ice and not any more durable than natural ice could be, the fragile dome only sustained for the time being by her energy and will.

  Maybe it was only an artwork to please her aesthetic sense and not any technique of practical uses? Casting only for the sheer thrill and joy of it. The wise old beards would have frowned at her juvenile play. Magic wasn't a toy for children. One mustn't intervene in the natural order of things for trifling reasons! A seemingly innocent gesture in this place could set off an avalanche elsewhere, or a tsunami, or a hurricane. Or so the past theorists speculated.

  But that her spell had mysterious, innocent beauty and artistry to it—I couldn’t deny.

  “Aw, crap!”

  Emily piled too much mass unevenly on her delicate frost cocoon, and it shattered with a glassy crash. Powdered ice fell over her legs, quickly melting, and she tap-danced in the middle of the creamy flakes, brushing her skirt, and mumbling oaths.

  Come to think of it, she could use Stagnate to reinforce the molecular bonds, in which case the formation could actually serve as a real shield. Enhancing naturally existing materials wouldn’t violate the Second Law, and the result should've been able to withstand both physical and magical attacks. Should I tell her that?

  No, where was the fun in getting all the answers handed to you? Maybe it was better to let her experience the joy of discovery on her own.

  Then the door opened.

  Quietly, Rafel Siroquan slipped into the training hall. He didn’t have the key, of course, but he had an iron lockpick and evident experience with operating it. His movements didn’t show any youthful nervousness, or guilt over his criminal behavior. He entered calmly, breathing and pulse under control, and closed the door after himself and went on to approach the training mage. By now, the evidence against him had grown close to damning.

  Emily stopped her conjuration and let her hands fall, the ice castle falling apart once again and rapidly melting. Smiling a bittersweet smile, she turned to face her classmate.

  “So you’re here, Rafel.”

  Siroquan paused. “You’re not surprised to see me?”

  “Yeah. I'm not. Since she said you’d be here.”

  “Who…?”

  “Be honest with me now. What are you trying? Are you planning something bad—with those terrorists hiding in the Wood?”

  The man tensed audibly.

  “You know about the Locust unit…? How? You’re not an ordinary student, are you, Troyard? Are you working for the Kingdom’s intelligence agency? Or is it Mysterium?”

  “You’re not going to answer me, are you?” Emily muttered with a wry little laugh and shook her head. “No, that’s already answer enough, isn’t it? It was all true. You're a villain, Rafel. Were all along. And I bought it, hook, line, and sinker. Ha. Yeah, I really thought we were friends. Sucks to be me, huh?”

  “Troyard, listen to me,” Siroquan spoke and took a step towards her. “I don’t know who told you about me or what they said, but this is a misunderstanding. I can explain—”

  “—Don’t come closer!” she shouted and raised her hand. “Even now, I can’t bring myself to think you’re fully evil, but…I won’t hold back, if you resist. Turn yourself in quietly, Rafel. That's the only way this can end.”

  Siroquan composed himself.

  Surrender wasn’t on his mind. I sensed him begin to gather mana.

  “I’m sorry, Troyard. I didn’t want it to come to this. I had no intention to hurt you, but I can’t afford to get caught. Not now, when so much is at stake.”

  As curious as I was to see if Emily’s combat skills had improved alongside her technical knowledge, it was probably time to step in now. Though I wished there was a more fabulous way to do it. I turned, kicked the broom closet open and dragged myself out and up to my stiff legs.

  “Yeah. That’s as far as you go,” I said, dusting my skirt and stockings.

  The two turned to stare at me. Emily’s look was less than impressed.

  “That’s where you were hiding…?”

  What did you expect? A portal to another dimension?

  Siroquan frowned at me.

  “Who are you…?”

  “‘Who am I’…Let’s see.” I went closer and stopped at the edge of the light to meet the young man’s disturbed stare. “If you are a native Tarachian, then you should understand the meaning of these words: 'August 27.' '1826.' 'Red moon over the plains of Najjier…'”

  The boy’s eyes slowly widened. His knees buckled and he fell backwards onto the floor, face paling.

  “You...? You're not—You can't be...! The Demon of the——!?”

  “—Yes, that’s far enough,” I said and raised a finger to my lips. Maybe it was vain of me, but I didn’t want Emily to know my other names yet. “So you were a soldier boy. That’s too bad. You see, I detest soldiers more than anything under the sun…”

  “This is a misunderstanding!” Siroquan wailed and shifted to kowtow on the hall floor. “I’m not with the Locust unit! I came here to stop them!”

  I stared at his prostrate figure, scanning with care for signs of deception. I thought I was pretty good at recognizing liars, but no matter how I scrutinized this fellow, he really appeared as innocent as a schoolboy. I glanced at Emily, who responded only with a confused shrug.

  Damn. It seemed I’d be doing a lot of overtime today.

  “Explain.”