The Reason You're Kept
Alex shook his head.
"I'm not close with Catherine."
"No?"
"No."
"Call him."
"Call who?"
"That old fossil of a fiancé."
"Why?"
Chris shaped a blade of wind and sent it flying. There was a thin, clean hiss, and Alex's arm came away. Blood jetted from the stump.
"Aaagh!"
The scream sprayed out with the blood. Wilbur lunged at once, snatched up the severed arm, and tried to press it back into place. Chris tapped the table with a fingertip. Wilbur froze.
"Sit."
"Yes."
Still clutching the arm, Wilbur backed off and returned to his seat. Alex gripped the raw stump and went on screaming. Alice, unable to watch any longer, put in a word.
"Heal it first!"
Alex clawed his wits together, set his staff against the cut, and chanted. The bleeding stopped. Flesh knit over the wound.
"Wh-why—why are you doing this?"
The protest came out in a shaking voice.
"You think you've got the standing to ask me why? Stop mouthing off and do as you're told."
Alex said nothing.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
"Sir?"
"This idiot really is dense. Call Catherine's former fiancé."
Alex opened the window, formed a voice-sending, and launched it. The fiancé he had summoned did not come. An uninvited guest did. Daryl caught the smell of blood drifting from the window, startled, and burst into the café.
"What kind of outrage is this!"
The moment Alex saw her, grievance surged up and he wailed.
"Elder! That man cut off my arm!"
Daryl stared at him, blank for a beat. Then her eyes found Wilbur sitting meekly at Chris's side, and she swallowed a sigh of relief.
Chris smiled at her—at the way she ignored Alex entirely and looked only at Wilbur.
Daryl's tone was sour.
"What are you smiling at?"
Chris raised his little finger, the old gesture for a secret lover.
"This?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on, Grandma. The age gap's a bit much for this, don't you think?"
Among ordinary folk, even ten years was enough to get you called a cradle-robber. Between these two there had to be four hundred, at the least.
Color rose in Daryl's face, and then she shouted.
"Everyone out!"
The customers who had scarcely dared to breathe since Chris and Wilbur appeared poured for the door in a rush. Even the owner, the servers, and the baker fled. A hollow quiet settled over the place.
Chris smoothed a hand along Wilbur's shoulder.
"You were fiddling with your identity token and muttering, so I thought you were pinning down Alex's location. Turns out you were quietly contacting your lover. Pretty boy, you're clever."
Wilbur didn't answer. Daryl growled.
"Take your hand off him."
Chris lowered it at once, obedient.
"I haven't harmed him. He was the only one around, so I had him run a few errands. That's all."
Then he grinned.
"You smelled blood, thought your lover had been hurt, and came charging in with your eyes rolled back. Isn't that right?"
"Nngh."
The sound she made was closer to a groan of pain.
"You were late, so I assume something urgent kept you from slipping away at once."
Daryl was silent. Chris jabbed Wilbur's forearm with an elbow.
"Skill, backing, or luck—most of the Sikbae mages who've survived are keeping their heads down. Seeing you stroll around, I figured you had something to lean on. I didn't expect a lover this impressive watching your back. You've got talent. Or is it the other way around—you became her lover because you haven't? Anyway, what exactly did you tell her, that Senior Daryl is throwing a fit like this?"
Wilbur cleared his throat.
"At the time I thought you were taking me away…"
"I've got plenty of Motaro ingredients. Chukhwan mages are falling over themselves to offer them up. Why would I go to the trouble of sourcing them myself? I'm a busy man. And you lied to me."
"I didn't."
"You got out because your lover covered for you, and you told me you'd bought your way free with mana stones."
"That's because you were pressing me so hard…"
"It's fine, it's fine. I understand. If I had a grandma like that for a lover, I'd be embarrassed to admit it too. She's practically your grandmother's grandmother's grandmother's grandmother's grandmother's grandmother."
A wet, phlegmy sound scraped out of Daryl's throat.
"Krgh."
She looked profoundly displeased.
"Senior Daryl, I don't think he trusts you. I told him the truth about the eating, and he still didn't look convinced."
Wilbur waved his hands in a hurry.
"That's not true."
"You didn't believe me."
"It isn't that I don't believe you. I don't trust Chukhwan mages as a whole."
Daryl spoke.
"And why is that?"
"Because I learned they devour Sikbae mages."
Before a mage knew the truth of the Klpandi and after were two entirely different worlds.
Displeasure showed plainly on Daryl's face.
"I was always honest with you."
"But you hid the truth that mattered most."
"That was the Tower's greatest taboo. Something that must never be spoken!"
While the ill-matched lovers murmured at each other, Chris watched Alex.
"Alex. What did you say to me a moment ago?"
"I didn't say anything."
"You called me that man in front of Senior Daryl."
Alex's face went pale.
"Ill-mannered brat."
Chris sent another wind blade, meaning to take the arm Alex still had. Daryl broke off her talk with Wilbur, stepped between them, and stopped the strike.
"Stop this outrage."
Alex ducked behind her, the one person shielding him. Chris lifted a forefinger and wagged it from side to side.
"Senior, shielding your pretty-boy lover is one thing. I'll let that pass. Shielding that little bastard, though—I don't care for it."
"He is a disciple of our Tower."
"Since when have you looked after the Tower's disciples?"
She answered, hard and certain.
"I always have."
"Cherished them so you could eat them later, did you?"
"Alex is a child Richard dotes on."
"Alex, I won't hurt you. Step out to the side."
Alex did not come out.
"I'm saying this for your sake. Come out."
He peeked from behind her. The moment his eyes met Chris's, he ducked back in.
Daryl said, "You really won't hurt him?"
"I won't."
Chris nodded, and she seized Alex by the neck and thrust him forward. Chris crooked a finger, beckoning.
Alex hesitated, face tight with fear. Daryl planted a hand on his back and shoved. He stumbled and drove his waist into the edge of the table.
Chris caught him by the collar and slapped him across the cheek. The crack rang, sharp and full. Alex twisted his face and bit down on his lip.
Daryl protested.
"You said you wouldn't hurt him."
"A few slaps are fine, aren't they?"
She didn't stop him, so Chris slapped him again.
"You think I'm tormenting you, don't you?"
"Yes—no—I don't."
"Is that a yes or a no?"
"I don't."
"Then listen. You know what's happening in the Tower right now, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Chukhwan are hunting Sikbae, and the clever Sikbae are selling out their own colleagues. Some are even bringing mana stones and begging to have Motaro made for themselves. And in the middle of all that, Daryl is shielding you—a mere Jenyeom. She's willing to stand against the disciple of a priceless Ultimate Mage, the one who produces Motaro, and you aren't even her disciple. Why do you think that is?"
"Because Elder Richard treasures me."
"Right. Exactly that. How precious must Richard consider you, for Daryl to act like this?"
"Is that strange?"
"Of course it's strange. Is it easy to climb from Jenyeom to Sikbae? No, it isn't. So why would Richard—who sacrifices Sikbae without a second thought when it profits him—coddle you, a mere Jenyeom? There's a reason. What do you think it is?"
"My father is a marquis."
"An elder of the Magic Tower, a man who thinks nothing of kings, protects you for the sake of some marquis's house? No. Absolutely not."
"There's a rumor that I'm Elder Richard's descendant's descendant's descendant."
"Do you know why people cherish their children?"
"Because they're their children."
"No. They cherish them because they can't live forever. Mages live a long time. Richard has been alive for more than a thousand years—how precious could a descendant be to him? Never forget that mages are selfish creatures by nature."
"Then why does he favor me?"
"Are you sure he favors you at all?"
A crease set between Alex's brows. When no answer came easily, Chris clicked his tongue, making a show of it.
"Plenty of training resources. No affection."
Daryl parted her lips, visibly uncomfortable.
"Stop sowing discord."
"Well, if you say so."
Chris struck him one last time across the cheek.
"If you want to live, find the reason. If you can't, you die."
Alex shook his head, lost. His thoughts were in such a tangle that the anger, the shame, and the fear he'd felt under the slaps had already drained away. He glanced around, then tried to slip out of the café.
"Alex."
Chris said it quietly, and Alex startled as if struck.
"Wh-why—why are you calling me?"
"Sneaking out without so much as a greeting to your elders is bad manners."
"May I leave?"
"No. Sit beside him and wait."
Daryl asked, "Why do you keep tormenting Alex?"
"I called him because I had something for him to do, and his behavior is irritating."
"What were you going to have him do?"
"Nothing that concerns you, Senior."
"Why do you keep calling me Senior?"
"We're both Chukhwan, Senior."
He turned his head toward the window and muttered.
"Why isn't this bastard coming?"
Daryl asked, "Who else did you call?"
Before Chris could answer, Wilbur spoke.
"He called Segorin."
"Segorin? For Motaro ingredients…"
Chris cut in.
"I told you. I've got Motaro ingredients to spare."
"Then why?"
"I was curious what he looks like."
"And why would you be curious about that?"
Her gaze, sharp as a hawk's, slid aside and settled on Catherine.
"Because of this girl?"
"So you know that story too, Senior? Your pretty-boy lover must have gossiped in bed."
Daryl's eyes went fierce.
"The Tower was noisy with it for quite a while."
She looked at Catherine.
"Why are you here?"
Chris answered.
"She came in for tea. I was the one who called her over."
"Why?"
"Why wouldn't a mage at the Jenyeom stage fix her face? I was curious about the story."
"And hearing that story made you want to see Segorin?"
"Yes."
"Why did you come down here in the first place?"
"I had business with Richard. I don't know where he stays. Wilbur happened to catch my eye, so I told him to guide me, and he said he didn't know the house. I told him to contact someone who would. That was Alex."
From the next table, Alex turned an irritated look on Wilbur. He seemed to be blaming the man for every bit of what he was suffering.
Only now did Daryl have the whole sequence of events. She looked at Wilbur.
"If you had stayed at my residence, you would never have met a harsh man like that and suffered for it."
Chris, belatedly eating a sandwich, heard her and spoke around the bread.
"A harsh man? Are you talking about me?"
"Who else would I mean?"
"I'm a very kind man."
"Does a kind man threaten people, cut off arms, and heap insults on them?"
"Get yourself caught by a foul-tempered mage and spend every day grinding your teeth in pain, and your temper is bound to sour. If you've still got someone with a sweet temper, by all means, trot them out."
He had worked himself up as he said it, and crumbs of bread flew. Daryl's brow tightened.
"Disgusting."
He finished the sandwich and meant to order tea, only to remember that Daryl had driven off every last member of the staff. There was no one left to serve him.
Chris looked at Alice and Catherine.
"You two never drank your tea."
Alice said, "It's fine. I'm not thirsty at all."
Her throat was burning dry, but it was not the dryness of ordinary thirst. Tea did not seem likely to soothe it.