Prose Magica: The Ballad of the Seventeenth Part 6

"So what d'you think?" Mona asked, a wide grin plastered on her face as she held one hand on the steering wheel. "Nice, right?"

"Oh yeah," her partner answered. "Yeah, its' a pretty good car."

Megan Laurie and Mona Bernard sat side-by-side in the latter's brand new Porsche 911 Turbo. The car was sleek, fast and painted a stylish silver and Mona was loving every inch of it. The pair sped down the express-way, bickering the whole way as they returned from errands out of town.

"'Pretty good'?" Mona questioned, glowering at her partner.

"Yeah, pretty good," Meg answered, nodding her head. "I like it."

"Come on, Meg," the taller of the two Eversors groaned. "A ham sandwich is 'pretty good'. This is like... Like the BLT of cars."

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a twist," the other eversor yielded. "It's nice, but it's not PERFECT."

"Oh, here we go."

"Coulda gotten it in red. Or gold. That would be cool. Silver's kinda plain... And, and I don't mean to alarm you, but," Meg waved her hand at the centre console, "no cupholders. You got this square thing that's just the wrong size for anything, and that's it."

"REALLY?!" Mona roared. "That's what your gonna nitpick? "

"Just sayin'," the shorter girl shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "You'd think a hundred and fifty thousand dollars might be able to buy a couple of plastic rings. So yeah. Sexy car," Meg made a much stronger and more firm gesture at the console, "no cupholders."

"I hate you so much," Mona mumbled.

The pair had been together practically since they were contracted. Inseparable to the last, the dynamic duo of Meg and Mona had never actually been assigned missions alone; it seemed as thought Fubey himself didn't want to break the set.

The straight man of the pair, Mona Bernard, was a good head and a half taller than her partner. Her figure was proud and imposing, her dark chestnut hair always tied back tightly with a black satin ribbon. Even her costume seemed to fit the image - a feminine variation on men's white tie dress, the dress coat having distinctive long, sweeping tails that curled up at the ends. With her intricate swept-hilt rapier and buckler, she would make for an imposing opponent... had it not been for her partner's constant presence.

Whereas her partner embodied elegance and majesty, Meg Laurie leaned more toward the brute force end of the spectrum. She was short and curvy with a mess of short, jet black hair that often fell in front of her eyes. Her weapon of choice was an enormous battle axe, stuck somewhere between a bardiche and a horseman’s axe. Riding her golden motorcycle, Gold-Mane, the sight of the axe wielding magical girl was a thing to behold.

"Hey Mona," the shorter of the two started, "think we'll ever make Valkyrie squad?"

"No," Mona answered flatly.

Meg's mouth hung open in disappointment. "Whaaat? Why not?"

"I'll give you one good reason," the taller Eversor answered, turning the car into their exit. "You remember Eversor karaoke night?"

"My best idea yet!" the smaller girl beamed.

"Which is saying something," Mona said, utterly dead-pan, "considering three people died."

"They got better!"

"That doesn't excuse it!"

"Everyone had fun and complimented it and said they'd love to do it again," Meg pouted.

The taller girl groaned, "Yeah, because it was a bloodbath. Most Eversors love bloodbaths."

"I don't!"

"Neither do I, that's why I said most, dingus."

The car sped through the bustling streets of Toronto, the pair of Eversors bickering all the way. It didn't take long before they rolled into a space in the Seventeenth's personal parking garage. Mona turned to her partner as she pulled the car into 'park' and glared.

"If you slide over the hood one more time, your ass is mine."

Meg made an exaggerated cringe. "You're supposed to say 'no homo' after something like that."

The taller girl simply shook her head as she popped her door open and circled around to the front of the car. From the trunk she pulled a small, unmarked package wrapped in brown parchment paper. Meg sauntered up shortly after, peering at the parcel.

"What do you think it is?" She asked, eyes shining with curiosity.

Mona cocked an eyebrow. "What? You didn't hear?"

The shorter of the two remained silent and shook her head, still mesmerized by the package.

"The girls in Hamilton had a couple casualties," Mona answered, rattling the box gently. "I guess the Foob decided to bring their gems back to home base instead of going out for them."

"Maaan," Meg groaned, "out of twenty, we end up with the fat and lazy one."

“Good thing if you ask me,” the other girl replied. “I've heard stories about the others. I'd take fat and lazy over being seen as livestock any day of the week.”

Together, the two made way for the parking garage's elevator. The smaller Eversor took the package while the other punched in the code to reach the Seventeenth's HQ: Two, nine, six, eighteen, fifteen, nineteen, twenty. The doors slid shut as the lift began its descent - nine floors down by their count - and eventually ended in the rainbow hall.

"Eversors Mona Bernard and Megan Laurie," announced Mona as she stepped to the centre of the room, her partner nervously following suit. "Delivering a special package for Mister Fubey. Clearance level red."

After a few moments the elevator to their left and closest to the entrance opened.

"Cause no trouble," Holly announced, putting on a faux-Russian accent.

The two Eversors stepped into the lift and pressed the first of three red buttons along the top row. The elevator lurched and began moving, seemingly in every direction at once. One minute and thirty-nine seconds later, the doors opened to reveal a short, barren white hallway with a single polished wooden door on the opposite end marked with a large, golden seventeen. The pair couldn't help but notice that the carpeted floor of the hallway was extraordinarily clean - almost as if it were vacuumed daily.

The corpulent incubator sat primly atop his desk, staring down the pair as they entered.

"Timely and efficient. Excellent work, the both of you." The incubator carefully lifted the package with his moustache just as the black-haired Eversor set it down beside him. "I shall set to work on these shortly."

"Any time, boss," Mona replied.

The chubby incubator's office was sparsely decorated; the only furnishings of note were his wooden desk, the numerous monitors lining the far wall, several chairs against the left wall, and what appeared to be an incubator-sized spiral staircase leading from the ground to the top of the desk. Fubey set the package back down on his desk and turned back to the two Eversors.

"In recognition of your recent efforts, I would like to offer the both of you a far more important assignment." He gestured at the screens behind him with his moustache-paw as images and text appeared. Mona shifted uncomfortably as she looked up at the pictures. "Mister Marcus Finn, a close friend of one of our chief benefactors, was found murdered yesterday. Said benefactor requests that we look into the death of Mister Finn privately on his behalf. I trust you will accept?"

The pair looked at each other nervously for a few moments, then nodded in unison.

"Excellent." The incubator clasped his moustache-paws together, then gestured to one monitor in particular, which displayed a short portfolio on Finn. "It seems Mister Finn's heart was pierced, leaving a hole approximately one inch in diameter through his chest. We suspect that the killing is related to organized crime, but we can not be entirely certain." The monitor flashed, then showed a file on a second man. "This is Mister Vincent Rossi, a trusted associate of Finn. Our benefactor suspects that Mister Rossi would have information regarding the murder. You are permitted to use whatever methods you wish to retrieve this information."

"So it's like a murder mystery?" Meg asked, her eyes glistening with excitement.

Fubey blinked. "Something of the sort, I suppose. Though, I would appreciate you taking this a bit more seriously." The incubator nodded before settling down on his desk, his moustache limply flowing over the edge. "Miss Corbin will forward everything you need shortly. You are dismissed, but if possible I would like to speak with Miss Bernard in private."

Mona gave the incubator a stern nod before turning to her partner. "I'll only be a bit. Just, uh, go wait by the car or something."

"Ah, o-okay," Meg answered hesitantly. "I'll, um, just leave you two alone then."

The tall Eversor and the incubator kept their eyes on the shorter girl until they finally heard the click of the door shutting. The monitors slowly each went black as a cascading darkness filled the room. After a moment of total blackness, several automatic pot lights went on around the edge of the ceiling. It was only then that the incubator began speaking again.

"I would like to begin by offering my condolences to your father," Fubey began. "It is always trying to lose a close friend."

Mona nodded quietly. "I only met Uncle Marcus once or twice, but he seemed like an okay guy. I'll pass on the message."

She'd had an inkling of who the 'chief benefactor' had been and it seemed that the enormous incubator felt little subtlety was needed in the matter. It was no secret amongst the Officio's girls that the Bernard family was one of the largest investors in the organization and Mona found precious few people willing to overlook that fact. Meg Laurie was one of them. She never prodded too hard or questioned Mona's status as 'the rich girl'. It was one of the very, very few things she knew to keep quiet about.

"Now, as for the other reason I kept you," Fubey paused for a moment, seemingly to collect his thoughts. "It is just about promotion season, as you are no doubt aware. In the next few weeks, there will be an opening in our most prestigious squad. You have time and again proven yourself an able combatant, which is why I would like to extend the opportunity to you personally."

"You're," the Eversor gulped, trying to process what she was hearing, "you're asking if I want to become a Valkyrie?"

"Of course, this would entail ending your partnership with Miss Laurie." The incubator tilted his head in a sort of semi-shrug. "I understand that you would probably like time to think about the offer. You may have two weeks, after which I will pass it on to another."

"I- I understand, sir," Mona stuttered, nodding. "I'll, uh, I'll think about it. And thanks."

Fubey gestured toward the door with his head. "I appreciate your consideration, Miss Bernard. You are dismissed."

✱✱✱

The two Eversors sat in Mona's car, parked across the street from a dingy pub with the name "Harrison's" emblazoned on a bold, sweeping sign out front. The taller of the two watched silently, her gaze centred on the stairway leading down to the entrance. The other girl sat to her left, noisily turning the pages of one of her favourite comics.

"Y'know," Meg started, "I gotta say. Stake-outs are a lot more boring than I imagined."

Mona nodded and grunted in agreement, not entirely paying attention.

"We just kind of sit here and wait," the shorter magical girl continued. "In the movies they just skip to the end. Or show some playful banter. We kinda blew our load early on the banter thing, huh?"

"Mm," Mona mm'd.

"Lucky for us, though, eh?" Meg said, flipping a page. "Guy frequents one of our bars. Whoda thunk?"

"Just be quiet and read your comics please," the other girl groaned. "The hell is that anyway?"

"Miracle Melanie and Murder Marjorie," Meg answered, turning another page. "Rumour is that it's written by a magical girl. Not all that realistic, though. It's like, EVERYONE is a lesbian."

"Well... to be fair..."

"And, like, how does Melanie put up with Marjorie?" The shorter girl continued as she read. "She's a huge cunt and practically rapes her every chapter!"

"Then why are you reading it if you don't like it?" Mona asked, furrowing her brow.

"Oh no, no. I like it," Meg replied. "It's just so crazy. It's not meant to be taken seriously, duh. It's like a parody of being a magical girl. People like this couldn't REALLY exist. The original Japanese version is way bett-"

"Whatever, shut up," the other Eversor hushed, tapping her shoulder. "I think we've got our guy."

Mona pointed to a man just leaving the pub, ascending the staircase. The pair of magical girls rushed to exit the car, then took up a brisk pace as they began tailing him. After a block, they began to notice less and less cars passing by. Mona gave her partner a nod and the pair halted a mere meter from the man.

"Mister Rossi, was it?" The taller Eversor called out.

As soon as the girl had called, the man spun about and with a cry of "Oh hell no!" took off down an alley. The two Eversors nodded at one another as their clothing shifted to their costumes. Mona took off down the alley, rapier in hand, while Meg mounted her golden motorcycle – which had suddenly appeared at her side - and continued down the street.

The man threw down garbage cans and scattered trash as he ran in a vain attempt to slow down the chasing Eversor. The girl leapt over and dodged each obstacle with an agility one would expect from such a thin and lithe form. Still, it seemed as though every time she was about to catch up to him, the alley turned again. The chase continued for at least several minutes before she heard the familiar roaring of engines in the distance.

Finally, the man turned into another alley. A long, straight path leading back to another street. Mona stopped in her tracks just as a bright light appeared at the far end. The man stopped as the light grew accompanied by a loud metallic thrumming. Meg whooped and hollered as the she closed in, sandwiching Mr. Rossi between herself and the pedestrian Eversor. Finally, she pulled the bike to the side, screeching to a halt mere inches from the terrified man.

With the two girls closing on him from either side, brandishing their weapons menacingly, Rossi could do nothing more than press his back against a wall and pray.

"Oh no," he wailed, "no, no, no NO. You're Helk's goons, aren't you? Oh fuck... Oh fuck, oh FUCK! I swear I didn't say nothin' to no one!"

The pair of magical girls looked at each other and shared a look of confusion. Mona stepped forward and pressed her rapier to the man's stomach.

"We're whose goons?"

"You're," Rossi blinked and gulped, "you're not with Helk? Then who the fuck are you?!"

"Security Firm Seventeen," Mona replied, throwing a business card at him. "We just wanted to ask you some questions. Let's start with 'Why did you run?' and 'Who's Helk?', shall we?"

"I- I ran because I was gettin' pulled over by a couple of scary lookin' bitches, that's why!" He shouted.

Mona looked back at her partner, who then shrugged.

"In what fucked up world are WE scary looking?" She asked. "Now tell us who Helk is before I need to making more of a point." She punctuated her statement by jabbing the rapier into his stomach just enough to break the skin.

"H-Helk? Did I, uh, did- did I say Helk?" Rossi stammered. "I meant, uh, 'help'! That's right! HELP! SOMEONE! HELP ME!"

His pleas were answered by one of Mona's fists sailing into the left side of his jaw, sending him to the ground.

"We were told you would know something about the death of Marcus Finn. That right?" Mona asked, crouching down and jabbing her sword to his throat.

"Finn? I don't know him!"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" The taller girl groaned, stabbing her rapier into the man's hand eliciting a loud scream. "TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mona!" Meg shouted. "Calm down! Just take it down a notch!"

"You aren't the one who had to chase this schmuck down and get covered in shit! This guy talks now or he gets to write down and cry about losing his tongue!"

"Whoa! Hey! We can talk this out!" The shorter Eversor cautioned.

Mona flicked her spear at her partner. "Back off! I got covered in filth that's probably coated in a nice layer of hobo piss trying to catch this fucker! Now shut up or I'll stick you next!"

Meanwhile, Rossi simply sat and watched the arguement silently, scared out of his wits.

"You think we're gonna get anything out of him if you spill his guts?!"

"I don't know, but I'll sure feel a hell of a lot better about all this!"

"You're gonna spill his intestines all over the alley just cause you got a little dirty?"

"You trying to say something, Laurie?!"

"You're gonna be getting bits of Rossi out of your clothes for weeks if you don't calm down!"

"You know what," Mona said, making a particularly sharp turn back toward the cowering man, "screw this I-"

"I'LL TALK!" Rossi shouted, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'll give you whatever you want! Names, places, whatever! Just don't hurt me!"

Mona blinked, the anger quickly draining from her face. "You'd- you'd do that? For us?"

"I'll tell you everything! Just shut up!"

"Well gosh, Rossi," Meg said, taking a seat beside him and throwing a playful punch at his shoulder, "you're not such a bad guy after all!"

"Alright," the taller Eversor announced, pulling out her phone and setting it to record the conversation. "Now spill."

"Helk. Charles Helk," Rossi started. "He owns a club downtown. Real popular, not my kind of place, called Club Mist. He also happens to be a small time arms dealer. Lets the higher-ups work out of his club for a cut of the profits. I happen to work for him. A-anyways, Finn, right?"

"Yeah," Mona replied. "He was murdered. We were asked to look into it. Any idea who it was?"

Rossi nodded. "The Wolf."

The Eversors blinked, then looked at each other.

"Da big bad woof?" Meg asked playfully.

"S-S-Something like that," the man replied. "About a week ago, Helk calls a meeting. So a bunch of us come in and he's sitting at his desk, same as usual. 'cept there's this girl with him. Real fuckin' scary bitch wearing this outfit that looks like straight-jacket. She's standing there beside him, not sayin' a fuckin' word. Just smiling. Not like one of them psycho smiles, but like, she KNOWS we're fucked. All smug and shit."

"Oh no..." Mona groaned.

"Oh yeah," Rossi answered. "One of yours, I'm guessing?"

"Might be," Mona nudged him with her rapier. "Keep going."

"Right," he gulped. "So crazy bitch has this big ass golden chain in her hands with two huge fuck-off hooks on either end. I don't even gotta say that we were freaked the fuck out. So this guy, Dmitri. Big fuckin' Ukie or somethin'. Real swell guy. The kind of fella that makes you wonder how he got roped up in this stuff. He starts freaking out, thinks she's like some slave or something. Says human trafficking is something he just won't do. So he tries to get the fuck out. BAM!"

Rossi slapped his one good hand on his leg, making Meg yelp. Mona still stared, unflinching.

"She hooks him. We barely even saw her move," the man explained, shaking his head. "Got him right through the throat. She starts yapping about how he made a bad decision and all that shit. That's when we knew he wasn't fuckin' around. Helk said she'd be sticking around, keeping people in line. Said he was in charge now. Never said her name either, just called her his 'Wolf'."

The taller Eversor narrowed her eyes. "Anything else?"

Rossi gulped and nodded. "Y-yeah. We hadn't really noticed, but Helk has this big fuckin' rock on his neck with a golden chain. I ain't no faggot, but it was the most beautiful thing I ever seen. It was blue and twinkling and... fuck it was nice. Then he pulls out this box and opens it. Three more of those rocks. Said they were ten times more beautiful than diamonds and sold for a hundred times the price on the black market. Wouldn't tell us where he got 'em, but he said he found a buyer and that we were gonna be the richest motherfuckers in the city. Or at least, he was. That's... that's all I know. I swear."

Mona reached for a choker hidden under her clothing. After a short burst of light, she held out a small silver rose with a swirling indigo gem in the centre. "Those gems look anything like this?"

Rossi's eyes bulged and he took a quick gulp. "Y-yeah. That's the ones."

"They're selling soulgems," Meg observed, her mouth hanging open.

"Those gems," Mona asked hesitantly, "what colours were they?"

"Uh, lemme think," Rossi mumbled. "One was a really pale orange. Almost white. One was green, with a bit of black in the middle. The other was nearly all black with a little blue around the edges."

The two Eversors looked at each other, sharing looks of shock and concern. The two stood up and leaned into each other.

"We need to tell the warmaster," Meg stated bluntly.