A/N: Hey all, sorry for the late chapter. Last week was super busy, and I kind of burned out, so after a while I decided to take the week off of writing this. I'm back now though, and ready to finish this thing up! Eleven chapters to go!
Review Responses:
FanOfKings, oh, he totally knew. He just selectively forgot about it for that evening at Chupa Cabra, and was quickly reminded of it. Thanks for the review, and enjoy the chapter!
Diana Raven, thank you! I'm really happy that you enjoyed it!
pokelover01, really glad you enjoyed the chapter. The casino scene was actually one of the first few scenes that we (my sister and I) planned out, although we didn't know how it would fit into the grander story until Mordred came into the picture! Thanks for the review, and keep reading!
fanficlove2014, really glad you enjoyed the chapter, especially Ayame, Clark and Vayne (had the most fun writing their scenes). Thanks so much for the review and for continuing to read this story! I appreciate it!
Guest, Rei's superpower is being invisible in comparison to Ayame. And Clark would not take a real break-up well, which is reason # 304 why he's not ready for an actual relationship. Spirit is definitely not grandfather of the year either, lol. Thanks for the review!
Anonymous Person, yes he is. Thanks for the review, and glad you liked the chapter!
Guest (2), Ayame is a good actress because she likes to be the center of attention and doesn't mind finding creative ways to get there, lol. Which is probably a combination of traits she got from Black Star and traits she got from Tsubaki. And Cassie would make an awesome Death Scythe, although she would be incredibly OP (like all Death Scythes, actually). Shelley is back in this chapter and will be back for the end of the story as well! Thanks for the review!
karma88, I thought about it, but decided that as a Shinigami, Kid probably wouldn't have a 'child' until way later on in his life, considering that that child would be his successor, and that child's maturing would probably actually kill him the same way that his maturing did to his father. Shelley is back in this chapter and will be back for the end of the story as well! Thanks for the review!
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
All the Stars in the Sky
Rei didn't breathe properly until they were well into the desert, Las Vegas nothing more than a haze of light on the horizon behind them. Only then did he let out the breath he was holding, sagging back into his seat up front next to the driver. For his part, Clark drove steadily and carefully, holding his breath each time they passed someone who might have been a policeman. On the way up here, Cassie had given Clark the appearance of his older self, but she was too tired now, curled up in a blanket in the back seat with her head resting against the window. There was nothing to do but hope that the darkness and the desert would hide them on their way back into Death City.
From somewhere behind him, he heard Ayame let out a little sigh of relief as well, leaning back into her own seat. The sound of her voice sent a shiver up his spine, heat rising to his face as he remembered what had happened in Mordred's office. He shook his head hard to clear it, ignoring Clark's concerned look as he reached for his phone. He had things to do now. He could worry about that later.
Later. When they got back into Death City, and Clark dropped them off at the apartment that he shared with Ayame. Alone.
Rei swallowed hard, doing his best not to think about that at the moment. He held his phone up, scrolling to the pictures he had taken as they rolled down the highway. It was a map of the world, with routes mapped out over it that he could only assume were the flight plans for Fata Morgana, considering that one of the points listed on it had been off the coast of Madagascar, and the date listed next to it had been the same day that Rei's sisters were kidnapped, not too long ago. He quickly scrolled past that point, looking for dates that had been listed in the future. It looked like the castle was moving steadily northward, and in a few days, it would be accessible from the Hill of Tara, in Ireland. It would hover over the hill for a day or two, before starting off on a western course that would put it over North America.
The weight of the information that he was holding in his hands struck him. With this information, there would be no need for any blind guesses, no need for the DWMA to wait for the Morrigan to reveal herself. With information like this, they could go to her, launch a full-scale attack on the castle. They could get his sisters back.
And capture Morgan.
The thought of Morgan being treated as a criminal, being locked up in the DWMA's dungeons before being sent off to the Witch Assembly, struck him cold. Wasn't that exactly what he had wanted to avoid by doing this in the first place? But they couldn't assault the castle on their own. They couldn't even plan out a strategy without risking that the Morrigan would overhear everything. And without a strategy, without a clear plan, it would be suicidal to even try.
He gripped his phone tighter, scowling at it as if it would tell him the answers
"Something on your mind?" Clark asked, glancing over at him as they rolled down an empty road, the truck rattling somewhat with the motion.
Rei sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He didn't answer him immediately, leaning back against his seat and looking up at the sky from the windshield. This far out in the desert, the stars were striking, a multitude of bright points of light.
The sight of the stars only served to remind him of her. Rei looked up at them, his mind going back to that moment in Mordred's office, to the feel, brief, fleeting, of Ayame's lips on his.
"Lots of things," he admitted, not elaborating. Behind him, Ayame didn't ask him to elaborate, the silence from the backseat louder than words.
"We got what we came for, didn't we?" Vayne asked, keeping his voice soft for Cassie's sake as they sped down the highway towards Death City.
Rei frowned, feeling the weight of his phone in his pocket as he studied the stars, his eyes shifting to the dark swath of the horizon ahead of them.
"Let's hope so," he said.
Rei watched as the truck rolled away from his and Ayame's apartments, his eyes on the bright cone of light produced by the headlights until the truck turned the corner, vanishing from sight. He closed his eyes, letting out a tired sigh as he slumped against the doorframe. His eyes felt dry and papery beneath his eyelids, and a bone-deep exhaustion was starting to spread through his body, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep. Once he turned around, Ayame would be there.
As exhausted as they both were, there were some things that just couldn't wait until morning. He drew in a deep breath, gathering his courage, and turned around.
She was standing in the living room, leaning against the back of an armchair. When she noticed him turning to face her, she looked away, a bright flush spreading across her cheeks. Her arms were folded across her middle, the fingers of one hand drumming a steady rhythm across one of them. The duffel bags from their trip were still lying on the floor on either side of her, discarded when she had walked in.
A weighty silence descended over the room as Rei closed the door behind him, turning to face her.
"So…" he began, raising his hand to the back of his neck. "Uh…"
"Yeah," Ayame said. "So."
She let out a long sigh, her eyes still on the floor, then seemed to straighten up from sheer force of will, shaking her hands out at her sides and raising her head to meet his eyes. Her expression was determined, as if she were getting ready for battle, and Rei took a half step back in spite of himself.
"I like you," Ayame said, almost angrily, as if this was somehow his fault. "I've liked you for a while. Do you like me?"
"Well, when you put it so bluntly…" Rei muttered, looking down at the ground as he grasped for the words. Ayame turned away with a huff, folding her arms again.
"It's okay if the answer is no," she said. "I kinda had a feeling…I just—Back then, I couldn't leave without doing something. In case something happened—to either of us—in case I never got the chance. That's all."
"Look," Rei began, scratching the back of his head. "I'm just—." He paused as something in Ayame's words struck him, looking up at her sharply. "Wait, what do you mean you had a feeling? You thought I didn't like you?"
"Well, you weren't taking any hints, so I just kind of figured—."
"Hints?" Rei asked, incredulous. "There were hints? How long has—okay, you know what, never mind. Just—just give me a minute." He ran a hand through his hair as he looked away from her, his thoughts racing in time to the beat of his heart.
"Wait, so you do like me?" Ayame asked, blinking up at him.
"Of course I do!" Rei said, blurting the words out without thinking as he spun back towards her. "I just—when you ask like that, I don't really know what to say. And I'm tired, and I have a lot on my mind, so—so…"
His mouth caught up with his brain then, and he looked away, all the heat rising to his face as he realized what he had just said.
Ayame could be quiet when she wanted to be, and he didn't notice that she was moving towards him until he raised his eyes and she was right in front of him, until her hand reached up, fingertips lightly brushing his shoulder. Her eyes were violet and wide, wide enough to get lost in. He froze as he looked into them, torn between leaping back and moving closer.
The look she was giving him was one part disbelief, one part something that he couldn't name, something that made sparks race just beneath his skin, a sensation that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. He didn't know what to make of it, didn't know what to say, so he continued to stare at her, his mouth half-open on the first syllable of a word he had forgotten.
"You really do?" Ayame asked, her voice somewhat hushed. "You're not lying, not just trying to make me feel better? You really do care about me…like…like that?"
Her face flushed, and she dropped her gaze. The sight freed the words inside of him, giving him a little bit of courage, the knowledge that he wasn't the only one affected, the only one who felt a little scared.
Rei drew in a breath and let it out.
"Of course I do, Ayame…" he said. "You're…"
Incredible. Amazing. Beautiful.
"You're my partner."
A flush spread over Ayame's face at the word, her grip tightening on his shoulder to the point where it was almost painful. Rei swallowed the last of his fear, reaching a hand up and letting it rest on top of hers, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. The touch seemed to relax her, and she exhaled, loosening her grip, letting his fingers thread through hers in a way that made something in his stomach leap.
Warmth spread through him like liquid fire, her warmth, and he was suddenly consumed by the urge to kiss her again.
So he did.
He felt Ayame's sudden intake of breath against his lips as he leaned in to kiss her, heart pounding in his ears. The kiss was tentative, uncertain, but just as he was starting to pull back, Ayame's free arm snaked around his back, pulling him against her. The world shrank around him again until it was just the two of them, until it was just her and him and the beating of their hearts and the way her Soul Wavelength brushed against his. He lost himself in the feeling, his mind absently tracing the lines and connections that had brought them to this moment.
The stag's face flashed into his mind for an instant, framed in the backdrop of the grass field that had been the inside of Ayame's mind, golden eyes gleaming.
And suddenly Rei understood what he was going to do.
Quoth was perched on the windowsill of her tower room, black eyes fixed on her from where she sat at her desk. The window had been opened a crack, just enough to let the air in and give the oversized raven the freedom he needed to open the window fully if he wished to take to the air, but closed enough that Morgan could study without having to fight against the breeze generated by their flight.
Not that she was getting much studying done. She flipped the page of the book she was reading, but barely absorbed the words, her mind somewhere else entirely as she occasionally glanced down, looking at the small hand mirror concealed in her palm. The mirror that, just now, was showing a bird's eye view of an apartment in Death City, a window that had been closed for two days.
Come on, Vayne…she thought to herself, returning her eyes back to the page in case her grandmother was watching. Where did you go?
With a sinking feeling, Morgan thought that she knew. Because of course he would come after her. Of course he would find a way to get involved in all of this, even though she had specifically told him not to. Of course he would do that. Why would she think that he would do anything else? Why would she think that any of them would?
The knot in her chest tightened, her eyes misting over as she gripped the mirror harder. She was angry and happy all at once, a combination that was too much to bear, and she almost hated them for it. Hope was cruel. It would have been easier for her, easier for all of them, if they had just left her alone.
Quoth looked up sharply from his preening, a single, harsh caw escaping him. Morgan quickly straightened up, pocketing the mirror in the moment it took the door to her tower room to open, the moment it took Quoth to take flight, finding purchase somewhere in the rafters as Mordred stepped into her room, leaving the door partly open behind him.
Morgan took a deep breath and hoped that her thoughts didn't appear on her face, hoped that she didn't look as flustered as she felt, but if she did then Mordred didn't seem to notice. That in itself was worrying—it told her that her uncle had a lot more on his mind.
"You're back," said Morgan. "When did you return?"
"A few minutes ago," said Mordred, moving towards the foot of her bed. He hesitated before reaching it, and in that hesitation, Morgan saw the extent of the distance that had opened up between them.
There had been a time when they had been close, before all of the distrust and all of the hate, before all of this. She had only been a child then, hadn't known much better, but she was surprised by the loss she felt for that closeness, for those times. She supposed that no matter what else might have happened between them, family was family.
"Would you like to have a seat, Uncle?" she asked, speaking through a knot in her throat.
Mordred nodded, taking a seat at the foot of her bed without a word, and for an instant, she was a child again, sitting at her desk in this tower room and showing him something that she had read. For an instant, he was just her uncle, her guardian and protector, and he hadn't kidnapped her friend's sisters, hadn't threatened the lives of the people she cared about, wasn't actively working to destroy the world that she loved.
Reality, when it returned, was painful, and she looked away. The question was burning in the back of her mind again. She could feel it at the back of her throat, on the tip of her tongue.
What really happened to my mother?
As if he sensed the rift between them, Mordred didn't speak for long moments, allowing Morgan to flip the pages of her book and pretend to read. When he did speak, his words sounded rehearsed, stilted, as if he were acting out a parody of concern.
"Micah mentioned that you've been spending all of your time up here…"
"You told me to stay out of trouble," Morgan said, and in spite of herself, she was unable to stop the wry smile from coming onto her face.
"I did," Mordred agreed. "You've never listened to me before."
There was an echo of her smile on his face, and for a second the tension between them eased.
"I didn't have much else to do, so I thought I'd go back to my studies," Morgan said, gesturing at the books she had taken up with her. "There's a lot about magic I never learned."
"Merlin's theories?" Mordred asked, gesturing at the dusty tome that she was currently picking through. "Dry reading, even on a good day. If I'd known you were going to be so studious, I might have prepared an assessment."
"I—." Her eyes flicked back to the books, her breath catching unexpectedly on the words. The mirror in her pocket was like a lead weight, dragging her down. "I was actually hoping to ask you some questions. I'm not sure I'm clear on the concept of fundamental energies. While we're heading towards Tara, I thought, maybe…"
That you'd teach me. That for a little while longer, we can go back to being family again.
She hadn't been thinking that until now, but now that the words had left her mouth, she wanted it more than anything.
Mordred looked up at her, and she saw in his eyes that he wanted that too, and saw in them the exact moment when he refused, the moment when his expression changed and he refused to hold her gaze.
"My apologies," he said. "There were certain…complications in Vegas that concern me, and entirely too many things to prepare for. Perhaps when all of this is over, we can resume your lessons."
We can never go back. Things will never be the same between us again.
It didn't matter what happened between the Morrigan and the DWMA. It didn't matter how this would end. One way or another, it would end with the two of them never being able to look each other in the eye.
"I understand," she said, turning back towards her reading. "Thank you for stopping by."
She heard him get to his feet, heard him walk back towards her door. When the heavy, wooden door creaked open, she looked back over her shoulder at him, the question burning on her tongue.
But he was gone then, nothing but darkness where he had been.
"Unfortunately, we weren't able to find as much as we would have liked," Angela said, her hands clasped behind her as she faced Shinigami's desk.
The comforting warmth of her spell filled the air around her, light pulsing through the web of magic that kept their words inside this room and away from the Morrigan's ears. She kept part of her attention on it as she spoke, the act of focusing on the spell taking her mind off of their failure at the casino, off of the embarrassed flush slowly beginning to spread its way over her face.
"There was a disturbance inside the casino," she continued, her eyes on the papers strewn over the top of Shinigami's desk and not on Shinigami himself. "Something that put Mordred's guards on high alert. Whatever it was, it was making it difficult to get around without being noticed. Mordred was starting to cast detection spells, so we decided to extract while we could."
It had been a sensible course of action at the time. There was too much risk of getting caught. With a sorcerer of Mordred's caliber, even invisibility wasn't a strong enough guarantee to avoid detection, and they were balanced on a knife edge at this point. There was no telling what the capture of someone like Angela, someone like Shelley, might have done to the balance. It might have forced Mordred and the Morrigan to tip their hand too early, giving the DWMA the advantage, or it might have done the exact opposite. There were too many variables, too many unknowns. They had done the right thing, but still, telling the story burned.
"Mordred was already suspicious of the DWMA's involvement," said Shelley, standing stoically beside her. "We expected that of course, given our choice to use Spirit Albarn as a distraction, and even planned for it. But it's likely that as soon as the third party interfered, Mordred suspected that the DWMA would send Angela and myself. We had no choice but to leave."
Shinigami's expression was unreadable from behind his steepled fingers. He didn't look directly at Angela or Shelley as they spoke, instead keeping his gaze fixed on a point between them, on the false blue sky of the Death Room's walls and ceilings. Angela waited for him to speak and tried not to look so nervous, tried to feel less like a child who was on the verge of being scolded.
It had been such a simple plan, practically foolproof. Mordred would have been expecting some sort of infiltration by the DWMA, would have been prepared for it. So they sent him something obvious, something that he could easily catch and stop in the form of Spirit Albarn. And while Mordred and his men were focused on dealing with Spirit, Angela and Shelley had the opportunity to sneak in, undetected and invisible. From there, all they had to do was find something that would give them an idea as to the Morrigan's plans, or the Fata Morgana's next location.
The plan had been almost laughably simple. And like most simple plans, it had of course gone terribly wrong.
When he did speak, she was almost relieved that he didn't address their actions directly.
"I see," he said. "And the third party? Do we have any idea who they were?"
"No, sir," she admitted, her eyes still lowered.
Shinigami's shoulders slumped, a soft sigh escaping him. "So we really have no information at all," he said.
"No, sir," Angela repeated, feeling her face heat up.
"I have information."
The voice came from behind her, making Angela look up. For an instant, she thought that the voice had belonged to Soul Eater, to the other Death Scythe, but it wasn't Soul that she saw standing at the edge of the guillotine-lined hallway that led to and from the Death Room, watching them.
It was Rei.
Shinigami blinked in surprise, turning towards him with wide eyes. It took Angela a moment before she realized that she was doing the same.
"Rei?" Shinigami asked. "What are you doing here? This is a private meeting—."
The boy didn't respond, didn't even pause to make an apology. Instead, he stepped forward, walking past Angela and Shelley as he made his way over to the desk. He was dressed as if he had just come in from the field, not in the modified school uniform that she was used to seeing him in, but in a black shirt and a pair of dark colored fatigues that looked like the standard issue field uniform for the DWMA Intelligence Agency. When he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, Angela leaned closer to get a better look before she could stop herself.
"I found this," Rei said, thumbing through several different displays before settling on a picture. He set the phone down face-up on Shinigami's desk, revealing a map. "It's the flight plans for Fata Morgana. The castle will hover over a certain location in two days. You can catch it then."
Shinigami reached for the phone with tentative hands, as if he didn't believe it was real. He turned the phone around to face him, leaning in close to get a better look at the plans. When he did, Angela saw him tense, saw his eyes narrow as he looked sharply up at Rei.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice tight to the point of anger. "How did you get this?"
"From Mordred's casino," Rei said. "The Round Table. From the safe in his office."
Something clicked in Angela's mind. "The third party," she said. "That was you?"
Rei's eyes moved towards her, his expression solemn but unapologetic. He didn't even try to deny it. "My team. We were looking for information like this."
"Why?" Shelley asked. "What for?"
"To find Morgan Fay."
Angela had expected that that would be his reason, but she had also expected him to lie, to attempt to hide it. The words, said so bluntly, were like a slap in the face.
Shinigami's eyes moved back towards Rei, narrowing dangerously. "What were you thinking?" he asked. "My orders were to not take any unauthorized action. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could have gotten yourselves killed. You could have gotten my team killed."
Rei said nothing, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him. Shinigami scowled, his hands moving down to grip the edge of his desk.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Rei?" Shinigami asked.
Rei inclined his head towards the phone on the desk between them. "It worked."
There was a scraping sound, Shinigami's chair as he pushed himself back away from the desk. Rei didn't react. Shelley turned towards Rei before the other man could get to his feet.
"But why turn yourself in?" she asked, the light reflecting off of her glasses. "If you have all this information, why are you here? Why aren't you going after your friend?"
"Because I'm not that stupid," he said, his voice soft. "Because I know I can't get into that castle on my own. Because this is information the DWMA needs to have, and because I'm still part of the DWMA."
There was a pause, a heavy, expectant silence filling the air. Angela looked back at Shinigami to see him still seated in his chair, hands gripping his knees as he scowled at Rei. When Rei didn't continue speaking, Shinigami prompted him.
"But?"
"My team gets to be on the airship," Rei said, meeting Shinigami's eyes.
Shinigami snorted, his eyes still fixed on Rei. "Like hell," he said, surprising her. "I'm not explaining that to your parents."
Rei shook his head, not backing down. Angela saw his hands clench into fists at his side, the only sign of nerves. "It's only fair," he said. "We found you this information. With luck, we'll keep away from the battle itself. We only want a twenty minute head start. If we find Morgan first, if we manage to convince her to stand down, to come back with us, she gets some leniency. You listen to her side of the story before deciding anything."
Shinigami frowned at Rei, folding his arms across his chest. Some of the anger faded from his expression, replaced with a calculating look. "And if not?" he asked. "If you don't find her? Or if she turns against you?"
Rei shrugged, and Angela could see from the tension in his jaw how hard it was to keep himself calm. "What happens happens," he said, "If we can't find her, then that's our problem. You'll do what you have to. And if she did turn on us, if she is on their side, then we have to be the ones to deal with it. It's only right."
"Hmm." Shinigami tilted his head back, studying Rei as if seeing him in a new light. "Five minutes."
"Ten," Rei said.
"Ten," Shinigami agreed, "And this conversation isn't over. When everything's said and done, you're still in trouble."
"Agreed," Rei said, nodding.
Shinigami picked the phone off of the table, handing it back to Rei. "Say your goodbyes if you have them and get your things together. The airship is leaving in two days."
Rei nodded, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He offered Shinigami a polite bow before turning around to leave.
It was only when he had passed under the first of the guillotines that Angela saw him release a shuddering breath, saw his hands flex nervously at his sides, his shoulders slumping.
There were certain things, Micah thought, that had set him apart from his peers even from the beginning, certain qualities that he possessed that had assured that he would never be able to fall in line as easily as the other people around him had done, that he would never have been content with being one of the DWMA's followers. It hadn't been his intention to break away from the fold, and in the beginning he had been as loyal as anybody, but those traits had always been there, dictating his destiny. He wouldn't have been able to stop it, even if he had tried. His future had been written out for him from the day that he first stepped through the DWMA's doors, a sword hanging over his head that assured that his parting from the DWMA would not be a happy one.
One of those things had been a penchant for asking questions.
Not the way the Intelligence Agency did, though, and not even the way Professor Stein did. It wasn't in Micah's nature to ask questions for people. Those questions, given to him by some external force or power, rarely interested him at all. He couldn't care less about the types of questions that would keep the DWMA secure, or that would allow the Research and Development team to create new tools or devices. The questions he liked to ask were more fundamental in nature, questions about people, about the world.
The question that had undone him had been a simple question of 'why'. Why follow Shinigami? Why do what he said at all? What had Shinigami ever done for him to earn his loyalty?
From there, it had spiraled, taking on a life of its own, nagging at him day and night until he had been forced to take the steps that had changed his life forever.
The question he was asking now was just a simple question of 'how', so Micah doubted that the results would be quite so dramatic. Still, he had learned from the past to be cautious about seemingly-innocuous questions. Not cautious enough to avoid them, no, that would be like telling himself to stop breathing. But cautious enough that he could recognize that most of the time, he didn't truly understand how deep the rabbit holes he discovered were.
Which was fair, he thought, given the subject matter of his favored questions. But he was still fairly confident that he could answer the question of 'how do we bring Elaine Greysteil back to herself?' without dramatically changing his worldview. In many ways, it was a purely academic question. Even if he did have the key for unlocking Elaine's personality—which he was increasingly sure that he did—a cold-hearted, emotionally dead assassin was infinitely more valuable for their purposes than a broken-hearted mother pining for her lost son. But it would still be useful information to have, if only so it could never be turned against them. And perhaps when all of this was over, when the Morrigan succeeded in changing the world, he could cure Elaine, although certainly it would be more of a kindness to let her stay the way she was.
At least, that was what he was telling himself now.
He gave Elaine a smile from over the book he was reading, another volume in the library's endless series of tomes centered on Soul Wavelengths, over the properties of the soul and over those wavelengths that manifested in unique ways. The book was quite dated, so it didn't name any specifics, but it did mention the possibility that certain wavelengths could overpower the soul that they came from, lacing it with madness or, in some cases, with nothing at all.
She didn't smile back, didn't do much more but stare straight ahead of her, her eyes fixed on a point just over his left shoulder. He didn't take it personally, turning his attention back to his books.
For all intents and purposes, Elaine was alive, but dead. Perfectly healthy, especially now that the Magatama had allowed her injuries to heal with little more than scars to show where the gash that Maka-sensei had left her had been, but with nothing inside.
As long as her powers were active, at any rate. As long as that wavelength continued to hum and buzz inside of her, covering her soul. If he was right, then her personality wasn't truly gone. It had just been dampened, a veil drawn over it by a power that she couldn't control. Her Paralyzing Wavelength had become so strong that it was paralyzing herself, and would continue to do so unless interrupted.
That was the key to his theory: 'unless interrupted'. If he was right, then Elaine's power could be shut off, allowing her latent personality to reemerge. And if he was right, that was exactly what Maka-sensei had done to her, using an ability that she possessed, an ability that she was known for.
The Anti-Magic Wavelength.
That wavelength was the key to everything, and unfortunately, he didn't have it. Nor did Mordred, or Grayson, or Elaine herself, or anyone on their side of the equation. But there was someone in the castle who did, which meant that if he wanted to test out his theory, he was going to have to go to her.
It wasn't a course of action that the Morrigan would approve of, but there, Micah thought, was the danger to his asking questions. Because now that he had an answer, he wouldn't be able to rest until he knew for sure whether or not it was the right one.
He thought about it for a moment, but not for nearly long enough before he was already lifting his head, meeting Elaine's eyes.
"Elaine," he said, "What do you say we go visit the prisoners?"
He hadn't really been expecting her to respond.
So of course, it didn't bother him when she didn't.
Omake
"So…" Ayame said, over breakfast the next morning, while Rei was pouring milk into his cereal and trying not to meet her eye, still embarrassed from the events of last night. "I'm your 'partner', huh…?"
"It was the only thing I could think of to say," Rei said, plopping his bowl down onto the kitchen table and taking the seat across from her. His face reddened as he took a spoonful of cereal, stuffing it into his mouth. "It works for my parents anyway…"
"Huh. Mine too…" Ayame said, stirring her oatmeal with her spoon as her eyes drifted idly towards the window. After a while, she said, "I wonder if Clark and Vayne ever have this problem."
Rei snorted milk into his nose, coughing violently.
