Ren turned her head toward Locke, who kept his eyes on Adah. She slowly retracted her outstretched hand and then brought it to her face, cupping it around her mouth as she leaned in to whisper something to Locke. The boy’s head bobbed once, presumably laughing to himself about whatever Ren had said.
“Let’s not get off on the wrong foot,” Locke said to Adah. “Since we’re all here, that means we’re all part of the same club.”
“What club is that?” Adah asked.
Locke smiled and raised his eyebrows. He looked at Ren, like there was some joke going on that Adah wasn’t aware of. Before she could remind them that they hadn’t answered her question, Secretary Sirk spoke up, his words like the drumbeat of a marching band.
“Ren, Locke—sit down and shut up,” he said, enunciating each word only as long as it took to get the syllables out.
Even after this curt command from his Secretary, Locke’s first reaction was to smile. He was like those boys in high school, for whom getting scolded by the teacher was half the fun of them acting out. He wasn’t quite the class clown, more like he wanted to see how much his charms would let him get away with. If Adah and him had gone to Deerwood together, it would have been more than just the socks of his uniform that he messed with.
Still, he obeyed Sirk’s command almost immediately and reclaimed his seat. Ren had to walk back to the other side of the table to get back to her chair, but made sure to stare good and long at Adah’s horns before walking away. She also made sure Adah saw her roll her eyes as she passed by. She really was a caricature of Iris.
With his magic users seated once more, Secretary Sirk gestured to the two empty chairs at the foot of the conference table.
“Please, take a seat,” he said to Adah and Elise.
Apparently there wouldn’t be any handshaking between anyone at this meeting. Not that Adah minded—this unceremonious welcome was preferable to the juvenile mind games that Ren had tried to pull.
Adah and Elise took their seats, their every move followed by the eyes of Ren, Locke, and the other Secretaries. Sirk, meanwhile, merely stared straight ahead. He sat with his elbows resting on the table and his fingers loosely interlaced, like he was waiting for the time to pass. That is, until something caught his eye.
While Adah sat down in a rolling chair with upholstery so plush it seemed better suited for a movie theater recliner, Izzy took a seat of his own. The pig jumped onto the top of the table—the pig had always had an affinity for moving with his physical form over flying—and strutted in front of Adah’s face. He turned in circles, like a dog making its bed, before plopping down for a rest.
“This way, I will be seen,” he said through a magic channel.
Adah had no doubt about that. Everyone was watching Izzy.
The Secretaries all stared at him in bewilderment, as if a stray cat had sneaked into the room and done the same. They were unsure if what they were looking at was even a problem—they only knew they hadn’t expected to see it. Predictably, Locke had a stupid grin on his face. Ren had already given up on “shutting up,” and burst into laughter.
“What the hell?” she said between giggles. “We can get him a booster seat if he needs one.”
Elise, on the other hand, didn’t react to Izzy at all. She watched the room with her characteristic blank face, her gaze sliding from one of her colleagues to the next. Rather than react, she observed their reactions.
In that moment, Adah understood the real reason Elise had asked her to come today. She had always known, in a general sense, that Elise wanted her to steer the conversation in some way, to make Heartbreak a key participant in this meeting. But Elise didn’t care so much about Heartbreak’s participation for its own sake. She wanted to use Adah’s presence to free herself up to do what she was best at: observing and analyzing.
If that was the case, Adah was more than happy to take the reins of this meeting.
Adah let out an exaggerated sigh, then leaned forward to rest her head on top of Izzy’s body. She cradled her head between her crossed arms, like she was using Izzy as a pillow. Between her horns and claws, she had to be careful not to prick herself somewhere, but she managed to get reasonably comfortable.
“We traveled such a long time to get here,” she said, not lifting her head at all. “And now you’re making us wait even longer. Even though I’ve been so eager to hear what you have to say. It’s too cruel, don’t you think?”
These words were Heartbreak at their core, but with a bit of extra charm sprinkled on top. She was more like a bratty princess playing nice at foreign court today, instead of scolding the citizens of her own realm. The people at this table weren’t necessarily her enemies yet, and she had a feeling this flavor of Heartbreak would play better in Region 1.
Though, she may have been mistaken.
Secretary Sirk lifted a hand to adjust his glasses. He spoke in the same tone he had commanded Ren and Locke with earlier, “If you’re in such a rush, don’t waste time with these theatrics. Let us discuss what we need to discuss.”
The smile fell from Locke’s face. Ren sat up straight and offered the Secretary her full attention. Adah took that as a sign that they had reached the limit of what antics Sirk would tolerate. She’d adjust her own approach accordingly.
“Congratulations on your confirmation, Secretary Godard,” Sirk said to Elise. “It is everyone’s hope that you will succeed in your role and, as evidenced by everyone’s participation today, our united responsibility to ensure that you do. It is in no one’s interest—particularly not yours—that you fail. Your predecessor’s failures were a burden to us all.”
“Thank you,” Elise said, nonplussed. “I’m looking forward to everyone’s cooperation.”
“Indeed,” Sirk continued. “Cooperation is the only way any of us can succeed. Despite the borders that divide us, we’re all quite codependent. Our shoulders all bear the same load. Some of us may have weaker shoulders than others, but that is no issue. Over the years, we have found an equilibrium that works for us all. What is important is that no one disrupts that equilibrium. Even a weak set of shoulders stepping out of sync, and attempting to carry more of the weight, can cause a disruption that harms the rest of us. At the same time, it is obvious how a strong set of shoulders dropping their weight would be disastrous for the weak among us.”
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With her head still resting on Izzy, Adah watched Elise. Sirk had addressed her, so she ought to be the first to respond.
“Cooperation and communication are key,” Elise agreed. “We all bear the same load—that’s why we have to make it clear which shoulders are strong and which are weak. As you said, it would be disastrous if we found out a certain set of shoulders wasn’t as strong as they claimed to be. If we communicate, we can catch a discrepancy like that and deal with it accordingly.”
“I bet it’d be good to know if the weak shoulders weren’t as weak as they seemed to be, too,” Adah found her opportunity to jump in.
“Twilight Heartbreak,” Secretary Sirk faced Adah now.
Even through his glasses, his eyes needled at her skin. She resisted the urge to squirm, instead keeping herself as still as possible and staring back at him. He may have been in charge of a larger region, but he was still only another government official in a suit. Adah wouldn’t give him any power over her for free.
“I was surprised to learn you would be joining us today,” Sirk continued, “considering you were not invited.”
“I was surprised you didn’t invite me,” Adah said. “Luckily, Elise knows what her job is and filled me in.”
To Adah’s left, Elise remained silent. Whether she knew it or not, Elise was being tested by Adah as well as the other Secretaries. It was time to find out how serious the woman was about working alongside Adah, rather than above her.
“Yes, and at first I found Secretary Godard’s decision extremely inappropriate,” Sirk said. “Then I realized it would make for a good learning opportunity. That is why I asked Ren and Locke to join us as well. You see, cooperation between a Department and its magic users is equally as important as cooperation between the Departments themselves.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Adah said, finally lifting her head off of Izzy. Sirk seemed to be prepping for an actual discussion, so she leaned back in her chair and readied herself to hear what he had to say.
“Your behavior suggests otherwise,” Sirk said. “You were anything but cooperative when it came to Roland Thibault.”
“He was an idiot,” Adah said plainly. “He put the whole region at risk.”
“He was a scumbag!” a new voice entered the conversation: the gruff and unrestrained growl of Secretary Borzage from Region 3. “I told you from the start, we should have gotten rid of him ourselves. The shit that came my way after he locked us out, you wouldn’t believe it!”
All the blood must have rushed to Borzage’s head—it looked like a tomato about to fall off the vine. Sirk held up a hand silence him, and the man quieted down instantly. He tugged at and shook his shirt in an attempt to cool himself off.
“Thibault is not an example for us to look toward,” Sirk continued, “nor is he an excuse for your behavior. You have been granted a great power, and so that you may focus on developing that power, we Secretaries bear the responsibility of determining how you should wield it. This is the system that humanity has collectively agreed upon. Those who do not cooperate within the system will be removed from it. That goes for Department officials and magic users alike.”
Adah turned to Elise and asked, “Elise, have I been uncooperative at all?”
“Thus far,” Elise said, “I would say not.”
“Nothing to worry about, then,” Adah said to the larger group.
This time, it was Secretary Carrell of Region 2 who spoke up. In contrast to Borzage, her voice remained calm and steady, but her eyes pierced Adah with unmasked contempt.
“You’re like an infection,” she said. “You play games in your little trash heap of a region, and suddenly magical girls all over the country start thinking they can do the same. Maybe you have a right to be upset with your bad luck, winding up in Region 4, but I do not want to hear any complaints from my teams. This system has given them everything.”
“Maybe we aren’t complaining about what we’re getting,” Adah said, “but what we’re giving up.”
“You’re more than welcome to return to having nothing at all,” Carrell fired back. “Then you’ll have nothing to give.”
Since she stood to gain nothing by continuing their spat, Adah simply stared at the Secretary. Despite all of Borzage’s boom and bluster, Carrell seemed to be the person in this room who liked Adah the least. Borzage’s vitriol was mostly directed toward Thibault, so Adah had technically done him a favor. Sirk was certainly no friend of hers, but Adah had him pinned as a calculating man. Too calculating to be spiteful. It was Carrell who saw Adah as an enemy.
“Secretary Carrell has gotten to the heart of the matter,” Sirk broke the silence that had taken over the room and fixed his gaze on Adah. “But the point is better illustrated through a demonstration than through rhetoric. I can forgive you not understanding how our world works, given you were hardly a part of it until recently, but I won’t tolerate it. Therefore, let me state it in terms you will remember: the will of humanity originates from this room.”
Adah had a sense of where Sirk intended to go with this, but held her tongue.
Just like Elise had her own reasons for inviting Adah today, Adah had her reasons for joining. She wasn’t here to make a move, but to see what moves the Secretaries would make. So, she waited and listened.
“The decisions made by this group determine which way the will of humanity points,” Sirk went on. “What goals it strives for, who it favors, when it reaches its peak—these are all decisions. The source of your power, and that of all magic users, is not a thing left up to chance. It is a machine with levers that can be pulled and buttons that can be pressed, and every mechanism for controlling it remain securely in our hands.”
“That hasn’t been my experience,” Adah said, pushing Sirk to reveal more. Rather than ask questions, Heartbreak would prod the man, and compel him to reveal the answers in his frustration.
“You have no experience,” Sirk returned. “You are a child making sandcastles. Here is your demonstration of the truth, child. Ren, Locke—stand up.”
The two of them obeyed after only a second of delay. If they took any issue with being ordered around like this, they didn’t let it show on their faces. They answered their Secretary with a synchronized, “Yes, Sir.”
"Ren,” Secretary Sirk addressed the shark-faced girl first. “You were scheduled to reach 315,000 FP after the Ivendawn Idol Festival, correct? What is your current level?”
“Right now, I’m at 312,000,” Ren responded.
“There was a reason you came up short. Remind me of it.”
“I got sick on the second day of the festival,” Ren said. “My voice was a little hoarse. I think that screwed it up.”
“Thank you, Ren,” Sirk said. “You may sit. Locke, when we formed your team, what were the timeline and objective of your Third Development Phase?”
“To register for an S-Rank mission by November of last year,” Locke answered.
“As I recall, you accomplished that right on schedule. Congratulations on a successful launch,” Sirk said. “I look forward to seeing your team perform when the mission arrives.”
“Thank you,” Locke said, and moved to sit back down.
“One more thing,” Sirk’s voice stopped him. “Your current FP?”
“Something like seven hundred thousand,” Locke said, glancing at Adah before taking his seat for good.
With those numbers hanging in the air, Sirk set his sights back on Adah.
“I took the liberty of looking up your data this morning,” he said. “I believe your FP is at 32,655, up a couple of hundred from last week. I will give you credit for making something out of nothing, but as Secretary Carrell said, I would be happy to return you to nothing. Just as I’ve turned the dials for Ren and Locke, I can turn the dials against you. It is, in fact, easier to get rid of a magical girl than to make one.”
There was the threat, and another opening for Adah to prod.
“Then why haven’t you?” she said.
Secretary Sirk leaned forward in his chair. As he moved, a ray of sunlight cast a glare across his glasses. Despite that, Adah could tell he remained staring at her. His gaze always had a weight to it.
“You’ve done some damage,” he said. “Your silly ideas have poisoned the well of Region 4, including so many of the teams in it. As it stands, you’re all too rotten to make any use out of. But you are also the most effective cure for that disease, child. I’m going to give you and Secretary Godard a chance to fix your mess.”
“And if I don’t?” Adah gave one last prod.
“I will fix it for you. All of it.”