Prose Magica: The Ballad of the Seventeenth Part 4

Nothing. Two hours of scouring nearby streets, alleys and rooftops and Odette had nothing to show for it. She kicked at a few pebbles at her feet and bit her lip in frustration. A few blood spatters where she assumed Freida had been standing in the alley, but nothing else. The one-eyed scowled as she looked on to the alley below, one foot on the concrete edge of the building. The smell of ozone hung thick in the air as she felt the first drop of rain hit the top of her head, heralding the end of her search.

Whoever had taken the Callidus had to be skilled, that much was certain. It seemed as though blood was only left behind when entirely unavoidable. Odette managed to prop open her umbrella just as the downpour began, quietly cursing the skies for not giving her more time.

Nothing. The word hung in her head as her footsteps rang out on the metal staircase leading down the side of the building. As she reached the bottom, she slumped against the rough brick wall and fished her cellphone out of her pocket.

Nothing. No crime was perfect, or at least that's what she had always been told. People didn't just disappear into the thin air. There had to be something she was missing, she was sure of it. Odette looked through her notes briefly before dialling a number. After a few rings, a nervous but polite voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey Gerty," Odette replied, adjusting the phone against her ear. "Any chance you're free today?"

"Y-yes, madam, of course," the vindicare said, stumbling over her words for a moment. "What do you need?"

"I'm kinda stumped for now," Odette laughed to herself. One day in and she was already dry on leads. Had she gotten so rusty? "Ask Holly if there were any witnesses to the other disappearances or anyone who might have known them. Ask around, see what you can find. I don't know."

"A-alright. I'll do what I can. Was there anything else you needed?"

Odette pressed the phone to her chest for a moment as she thought. "Any chance your sister is busy today?"

"I believe so, yes. Something about Valkyrie squad having a meeting."

"Shit, that's right," Odette sighed, rubbing her forehead with the hand holding her umbrella. "Pass the same orders on to her. And, uh, tell her I'll try my best to get Frieda back. She can tell the rest of the Valkyries the same."

"I'll be sure to pass the message on. Is there anything else, madam?"

"Uh, n-nah, that's... that's everything, I think," the one-eyed girl mumbled. "So, um, I'll meet you outside the bakery at HQ around, say, uh, six-ish? You know the one."

"Oh yes, the one with those macarons you love so much?" Gertrude asked.

"Ah, yeah. Yeah, that one," Odette paused to clear her throat before continuing, her face heating up ever so slightly. "Thanks. I'll, uh, I'll see you then."

The sound of soft, delicate laughter tinkled through the speaker. "Of course, madam. I'll see what I can find."

And with that, the line went dead. Odette took a deep breath and pressed her back against the wall, her mind mulling over the details of the case. With a few quick motions, she brought up the list of missing magical girls on her phone. The only thing that seemed to link them was that they were all fairly high-ranking members of the Officio. Now even the leader of the top squad in the whole damned Officio had vanished. Odette let out a soft groan and pinched the bridge of her nose. It had been too long since she'd been forced to work with so little.

The rain pounded out a steady beat against her umbrella as she went over her options. She could always bug Holly; having her figure out the most likely next target would be the best idea. Then... Odette glanced up at the rooftops around her. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of being watched. But really, she thought, if the kidnapper or murderer or whoever the hell they were was going after important targets, why bother with a back-number former warmaster who hadn't gotten a real job in months? Odette kicked at a shard of broken glass as she thought. Tyler was right, she told herself. She was a washed-up has-been.

The silvery-haired girl shook her head and thumbed a number on her cellphone. It was a number she hadn't used in months. One that still hung in the back of her mind after having used it so much in her days as warmaster.

One ring. Two. Three.

A click on the other end heralded the voice of the receiver.

"Yo, yo, yo. How's it hangin', O?" Came Holly's chipper voice, the same as always. "Haven't heard from you in a while. Well, not counting last night."

"Uh, oh yeah," Odette mumbled, suddenly recalling the previous night. She had a habit of taking unnecessary and regrettable actions when in a bad mood. "Sorry about that. Just... work and stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. I know how it is," the vanus replied, chuckling to herself. "You've never been a happy camper. Well, you WERE, but-"

"Holly," Odette groaned, rolling her eye.

"Ah. Yeah. Sorry. Bad memories. What can I do you for?"

"I need you to run a prediction for me," the one-eyed girl said. She still couldn't help but glance at the rooftops every now and again. "Looking for the next potential victim. Can you do that for me?"

"Depends," Holly stated flatly. "How much information you got?"

"Looks like they're hitting our big names. They'd need to be strong," Odette shrugged. "Not much else to go on. They're good. Hardly any evidence left."

"Wow," the other girl let out a long breath and Odette winced as the earpiece crackled. "Yeah, that's, uh, that's a doozy alright. I'll pull up the list of victims and work from there. It shouldn't take too-... ah shit wait."

"What?"

"I forgot you're not- It's just-" the vanus stammered before letting out a long, tired breath. "Uh, sorry, O. Forgot I can't just bump you to top priority anymore. It'll take a few hours to run the algorithms, factor in all possible motives, and... Yeah."

Odette closed her eye and nodded. "I understand. Call me when you have something."

"Will do. Take care."

Odette considered saying something for a moment, then tapped the big, red 'End Call' button with her thumb. Her first real talk with one of her old friends had done little more than confirm what she'd been thinking early. The words wormed their way into her mind again.

Washed-up.

Has-been.

Sure, some new kid had asked for her autograph, but wouldn't you know it, it was a picture of Odette from her heyday. Back when she still had both eyes and didn't have messed up nicknames like "Odette the Furious" and the "Wandering Warmaster". Back when people respected and looked up to her instead of feared her like some urban legend.

"'m not a goddamn Sasquatch," Odette mumbled to herself.

But that was enough brooding for one day, she told herself as she picked up her feet and made her way out of the alley. The rain beat a sad tune on her umbrella as she walked, accompanied by the brass section of traffic just outside the corridor. And faintly - oh so faintly - she could smell the sickly sweet scent of flowers at a funeral.

Therese stepped up to the podium and cleared her throat. Twenty magical girls watched her with eager eyes. The warmaster tugged at the visor of her cap, let out a deep breath and began speaking.

"Good morning, everyone," she greeted them, her tone composed and professional. "As most of you have no doubt heard, as of this morning, at approximately zero-hundred hours, Callidus Freida Norton has gone missing."

The wave of shock moving through the small crowd was substantially less than Therese had expected. No doubt they had already passed the rumour between themselves several times over. Still, there were those who simply had to hear it from the warmaster herself to believe it. Several were crying, others simply stared in shock while the majority stood at attention as they awaited further news.

"Some of you may be pleased to hear that our very own Odette Brighton has been assigned the case," Therese gulped and scanned the crowd for reaction, trying her best to hide her nervousness. "Others, not so much-"

"But what about us?!" A voice shouted from the crowd. "The hell are we supposed to do?!"

"Those of you who wish to help can either report to Miss Brighton or standby and await further orders," the warmaster stared out into the crowd as her eyes grew hard. "The rest of you can resume your lives as usual. Let it be known that this Officio will not tolerate vigilantism. If I receive word that one of you has interfered with the investigation, you shall be reprimanded accordingly and without mercy. Am I understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Warmaster." rose from her meagre audience. Therese scanned the crowd and gave a quick nod before dismissing them. She stepped down from the podium and leaned against the side wall as the crowd filed out. The few that remained seemed to be the crying, those comforting them and several who simply sat in shock.

Therese watched as a solemn looking girl with spiked, forward-swept black-dyed hair and a lip piercing quietly walked up to her. Fredrica Volk; Freddy to her friends. The other half of 'Odette's Hounds'. The hammer to her sister's scalpel, as some said, though, the reverse may very well have been more accurate. Whereas Gertrude tended towards powerful, booming rifles, Fredrica never used anything but her trademark three-pronged switchblade. Often times, she didn't need anything more.

"Mornin', warmaster," the dark-haired girl called out, both hands shoved deep into her pockets. "How 'bout that weather?"

"Freddy. Quite the downpour, so I hear," Therese responded in kind.

Freddy nodded as took up a position beside the warmaster. "Just got a text from sis. Looks like we're gonna be helping out."

"Glad to hear it," the warmaster tilted her head a bit closer to Freddy. "Truth be told, I'm glad Fubey finally folded. Odette was starting to show... signs. You know?"

"I know. She's been cooped up in that damn tower since D-Day," Freddy shook her head faintly. "Still can't believe you keep Argente around after that shit."

"Tyler's a good girl most of the time," Therese sighed. "Odette just gets under her skin for some reason."

"Yeah? Well she got her fucking wish," Freddy growled, gritting her teeth. "Odette got demoted because of her and she got to be warmaster's aide!" The black haired girl furrowed her brow as she glared at the ground. "Thought we only got one each."

As much as the warmaster wanted to voice her agreement, Tyler was still a valuable asset to her and, like it or not, a good friend. Playing with the lint in her pocket, she could only think of one thing to say that didn't put her on either side of the line.

"Some people are just lucky, I guess."

Odette stared into her cup of tea lost and forlorn. Her day had started out terrible and only gone downhill from there. She'd had an argument with someone she hoped to never see again, found no solid evidence at the crime scene, had the fact that she was a nobody shoved in her face and now, to top it all off, the bakery was out of macarons. Maybe she ought to take up some other, more appropriate vice, she thought to herself. What kind of hardened, down-on-her-luck magical girl spends her time writing poetry and eating sweets? When she thought of others like herself, she imagined alcoholics and chain-smokers and people who sounded like they were gargling gravel every time they spoke. At least she had the scowl down.

"Ah- E-excuse me," said a rather timid sounding voice.

The one-eyed girl looked up. She had been expecting Gertrude, but this girl was most certainly not her. Her hair was long and dark and looked as though it had never known the touch of a brush. The girl's eyes were a dark brown, the kind that looked almost as if she had enormous pupils and no irises. Strangely enough, Odette could swear she knew the girl from somewhere.

"Um, do you mind if I sit here?" the girl asked, cautiously pointing at the empty seat next to Odette.

Odette shrugged. "I'm not using it," she replied. Though, as the girl sat down, she couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't picked any of the other, unoccupied, benches. Unless-

"You're, um," the girl started, voice shaking, "you're Odette Brighton, aren't you?"

This was why she didn't come to the building anymore. Warmaster or not, she still stood out like a sore thumb. Silver hair, eye-patch – Odette had to admit that she was hard to miss.

"Yeah, that's me," the former warmaster answered. "Look, if you want an autograph or something it's cool-"

"Really?!" The messy-haired girl nearly made Odette jump off the bench as she lunged at her. "Do you think I could maybe get a picture with you? I- I mean, if it's not too much trouble."

"I... yeah, whatever," the one-eyed girl could only mumble after being caught so off-guard.

Odette cringed as the girl shuffled closer - a blatant invasion of personal space - and pulled out her cellphone, pointing it at the two of them.

"Say cheese!"

Odette barely had time to smile before she heard the click of the imitation shutter.

"Did... did you get it?" she asked hesitantly.

The messy-haired girl nodded vigorously as she looked at her phone. "It's great! Thank you so much!"

"No problem, Miss, uh," Odette said, suddenly realizing that she had never caught the girl's name.

"Fennel! Fennel Vance!" The girl, Fennel, answered. Her dark eyes shot open as she looked through her phone. "Um, is... is that really the time?"

The silver-haired girl leaned over, glanced at the screen then nodded. "Looks right."

"O-oh no. I'm gonna be so late," Fennel groaned as she jumped out of her seat. "She's gonna be so mad. Stupid, stupid Fennel! Sorry Miss Odette, but I have to run!"

The girl was gone before Odette even had a chance to raise her hand. She blinked her one eye as her gaze shifted back to the cup of tea in her lap. There was something eerily familiar about Miss Vance, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She'd always been terrible with faces, even back in her warmaster days. Odette knew that she knew them, she just couldn't figure out where from.

Her freshly resumed stupor was interrupted quickly enough by her own cellphone going off. Odette pulled it from her pocket and clumsily tabbed through the screens. Sure enough, it was a text from Gertrude. It seemed that wouldn't be able to meet Odette and asked if they could possibly arrange something the next day. Odette sighed and quickly typed out her reply, nothing more than a short, terse "sure", before turning off her phone.

There went her afternoon, she thought. Maybe she'd hop in Sleepy Sue and just drive until the sun went down. She'd done it before - simply drove and drove until she fell asleep. More than once she'd blacked out on the rode and woke up on a certain American warmaster's couch. How she'd managed to get from Toronto to Santa Destroy in the span of a night had always been a mystery.

It was nearing midnight when Odette finally arrived at her apartment. It was a grey and dingy old building on the edge of downtown; it was the kind of easy-built cookie-cutter structure that seemed to spring up by the dozen as the city crept outwards. Despite having only lived there for two months - and probably only spending half as many nights there - it still managed to feel like home.

She had her phone out in one hand. Some time in the night, Holly had left a message. Odette hadn't even thought about her earlier call when she'd turned it off. She thumbed voice mail button and shoved the phone between her shoulder and her ear; a precarious balancing act as she went for her keys.

"Hey, O. Holly here," the vanus' voice called out. "Just following up on your request from earlier. So, I've got some bad news and good news. Good news is, it seems like I've got a solid pattern going. Seems like they're going for powerful girls, not necessarily high-ranking. Most of the earlier victims didn't have much of a reputation behind being hard as nails."

Odette dug her hand into her pocket and fumbled with the jangling chain. Her house key, Sleepy Sue's key which were really just for show, the old key to the warmaster's suite that she'd likely never get around to taking off, and a host of others that she no longer recognized. Looking at the fist-sized ring almost made her feel like a janitor. She let out a quick huff and shoved the brass key into the lock, jimmied it just the right way and gave the green door a good shove like it always needed.

"Bad news is, I finished calculating the probabilities on the next victim. Therese and Tyler were up there pretty high, but I doubt anyone could get past their security even if they COULD beat them in a fight. Nobody knows where me and Molly are, so we're out. So, uh, most likely next target looks to be..."

The door gave way and Odette stepped inside, and breathed in a long breath of...

Sweet.

Nauseating.

Like the cheap perfume they spritzed on a dolled up corpse for viewing.

"You."

Odette didn't bother to close the door as she bolted in, her cell clattering on the floor. Drawers were half-open or pulled straight off the rails. Papers were strewn about, blowing in the wind from the open door. No, the open door simply led into the hallway. A window was smashed, specifically the enormous window she sat in that morning.

The one-eyed girl frantically ran from room to room. The house was empty. Nothing seemed to be taken. The only thing that seemed wrong - aside from the broken window - was a small envelope on the kitchen table, held down by a brick. Classy.

Odette cautiously pulled the envelope from under the brick and tore it open. Its contents were simple: a single sheet of folded eight and a half by eleven inch paper, with several machine-printed lines of text.

Rejoice, Odette Brighton. you have been deemed worthy of Her glorious blessing. 
Pass the tests before you and I shall grant you Her gracious boon. 
With it you may defeat the Usurper and reclaim what is yours. 
Fail, and you shall sing her praises with the rest of the animals.

The Blessed Lady cares for Her children.
The Blessed Lady protects.