The Best of Buddies

“Do you want to get run over?” Mildred pulled Airi out of the way as a carriage rumbled past.

“Uff,” Airi groaned. Her broken rib sent an unexpected jolt of pain, and she stumbled.

Mildred slowed. “What is it? Will you make it up the stairs?” she asked dubiously.

“I’ve come this far,” Airi said. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some grandma.” Despite her words, she had to clench her teeth.

Mildred eyed Airi out of the corner of her eye and changed course, striding towards the waterway dividing the street in two. Clinging to her arm, Airi saw the crowd part to let them through, though Mildred wasn’t dressed as elegantly as most of them. So this was the power of a great mage.

“One transport spell, please,” Mildred said to the blue-robed young man seated at a table beside the waterway.

The young man dropped the parchment he’d been studying. His huge, round glasses made him look like an owl. “M-mage Mildred!” he said. “What, uh, what brings you here?”

“Mage Leuke,” Mildred said unsmilingly. “I didn’t realize we were on first-name terms.”

The owlish mage ducked his head. “My apologies, Mage M—I mean, Distinguished Mage.”

“Could I get a transport spell for two people, please?” Mildred glanced briefly at Airi, strands of seafoam hair falling into her eyes.

A confused expression drifted across the young man’s face. Airi gave him her most disdainful look.

“Your... uh... friend?” Leuke guessed. “I mean, not that I’m surprised that you have friends. It’s just that I’ve never seen—”

Airi looked at Mildred with a smirk that would’ve made Kazuko jealous. “Oh, yeah. We’re the best of buddies.”

Mildred didn’t smile. “Please do your job, Mage Leuke,” she said.

Mage Leuke pulled out a piece of parchment and muttered under his breath. It took him three tries before the parchment folded into a boat, rather than a crumpled mess. Mildred watched silently. “Sorry, it’s just, uh—” Leuke explained. “I mean, I haven’t had lunch, and it’s really hot, and...”

“Thank you.” Sweeping past Leuke, Mildred hauled Airi into the boat.

Once they were both in the boat, it began moving through the water. It was surprisingly fast and as smooth as a train ride. Airi found herself enjoying the sun, if not the company. She watched their boat outpace horse-drawn carriages. They drifted through a park filled with couples strolling arm-in-arm. Citrus trees leaned over the waterways, close enough to pick oranges and lemons out of, showering their snowy blossoms onto Airi's head.

The buildings became grander the farther up the hill they went—all Gothic columns, trailing rosebushes, and carved balconies. The roofs, flanked by gargoyles, made Airi think of jade, ruby, amethyst. Everywhere floated the scent of apple blossoms.

And the mages. Airi had never seen so many in one place. They wore colorful Greek-style robes, chatting in between spells or hunched over their books. Nestor would have lost his mind with excitement if he were here. Although, she supposed that he’d already seen all this, if he’d passed through here. Hopefully, he had started going to class.

“What are you thinking of?” Mildred asked her.

Airi hadn’t realized she’d been quiet for so long. “What? I’m being quiet, like you asked.”

“I know,” Mildred said. Airi was pleased to detect a trace of annoyance in her voice. “You looked worried.”

“Just thinking about stuff.”

Smaller parchment boats sped past theirs, carrying packages or envelopes. Airi dipped her hand into the water; it felt real.

“How does the water not damage the boats?” she asked.

“Mana,” Mildred replied simply, leaning against the side of the boat.

Every so often, they passed a mage dressed in cerulean-blue robes, carrying the same spellbook: The Great Ocean. Airi supposed these were the mages keeping the water flowing uphill.

Mildred was reading The Magical Map, brushing her seafoam hair out of her face. Airi peered at the page, and Mildred snapped the book shut.

“Hey, I was just—” Airi said.

“So...” Mildred said. “About that child you brought to Magisbury.”

“Yeah, what?”

“They tested him when he got to the palace. He has ample mana—second-class, at least. With enough training, he might even pass the first-class tests."

The boat rocked past a theater decorated with winged statues, and Airi heard the wail of opera music from inside. “So what are you trying to say?” she asked Mildred.

“I’m asking what you plan on doing next. You can’t study magic, and the boy will be in class.” There was no malice in Mildred’s voice, only curiosity. “What will you do?”

Airi thought about it, her eyes lingering on the winged statues in front of the theater. Her crystal hand curled into a fist.

“I want to hunt monsters.”

Mildred’s eyebrows raised. “You can’t be serious. Do you have a death wish? Even well-trained mages have a difficult time defeating monsters.”

“So I’ll find a mage to help me.” Airi gestured at a green-robed mage examining a flowering shrub by the waterway. “Any one will do, right? I’m sure I can convince someone.”

Mildred sighed. “You really don’t know anything. Most mages are third-class mages who would pass out after casting The Naughty Little Kettle more than ten times in one day. They don’t have enough mana to conduct their own research, so they take mundane jobs like that.” She pointed at two blue-robed mages muttering The Great Ocean.

So even mages had a social hierarchy. “You’re a first-class mage, right?” Airi asked.

For a moment, it looked like Mildred wasn’t going to answer. “Yes.” She added quickly, “But I’m not going with you on your suicide mission.”

“How many other first-class mages are there?”

“Six, excluding myself.”

Airi hadn’t expected so few. “Can you tell me about them?”

“The oldest among us is Prometheus. He’s always buried in his research on the manasphere. You’ll never get him to go off on an adventure.”

Airi remembered that The Geography of the Star’s End Plains had referred to fallen stars as manaliths. The manasphere must be the barrier around the world, the one that the demon had briefly cracked in order to let her through.

“There’s Calypso, our leading water mage... she currently lives in Swamp Glade. She said it was better for her research.” Mildred thought out loud. “Let me see... there’s Narcissus, but he won’t cooperate with you.”

This sounded like a challenge to Airi. “Yeah?” she asked evenly, waiting for Mildred to say more.

Mildred sighed. “Truth be told, he shouldn’t count as a first-class mage, since he doesn’t conduct any research of his own and... only knows one spell. But his family is wealthy.”

Ah.

“Prometheus. Calypso. Narcissus—he doesn’t even count. Who else?”

“There’s His Highness the former crown prince, Mage Boreas. He was our best defensive mage. But he’s been exiled to Stormhaven for a long time.”

“Oh, yeah. I know," Airi said bitterly.

Mildred pursed her lips. "His Royal Highness is known for sending letters, demanding that His Majesty allow him to return to Magisbury. And each time, his request is denied.”

Airi felt ridiculous. She should have thrown the letter into a puddle at the first chance she got.

“Anyways, you were asking about first-class mages. There’s Pygmalion, I suppose. His research is focused on monsters.”

Airi perked up. That sounded promising.

“His workshop is in the palace. You can find him in the East Wing of Lower III.” Mildred opened her book again.

Airi counted off the first-class mages. “Prometheus, Calypso, Narcissus, the prince, and... Pygwhateverhisnamewas. That’s five.”

Mildred thought for a moment. “Oh, and there’s Hestia. She’s responsible for coordinating our monster-hunting efforts, so she rarely leaves the palace either.”

“Why are all first-class mages shut-ins?” Airi griped. In her head, she sorted through the mages. Pygmalion sounded the most promising, but Hestia wasn’t bad either.

The boat rocked to a stop at the edge of the waterway, where smooth marble steps rose out of the water.

“We’re here,” Mildred said, helping Airi out of the boat.

Airi looked up the steps to the absurdly large building. From afar, it had looked white, but she saw now that it wasn’t just white, but white flecked with gold in swirling patterns. Despite its shine, it bore the invisible weight of age. The roofs gleamed like pearly eggs, and the towers were shaped like chess pieces—a round one for the pawn, a tower-shaped one for the rook, and a crown for the king.

The palace.