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theslayersblog · 7 years ago

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SlaYers novel 1 chapter 1

Slayers novel 1

Beware of Bandits That Go Grump in the Night

So there I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Why were they chasing me, you ask? Well, it’s a long, boring story and besides, where I come from, it’s not all that odd to find yourself being chased through the woods at top speed by a gang of murderous bandits. Especially if you’re me.

If you really want to know why I can tell you, but you don’t need to know why. Actually, it’s probably safer if you don’t know. Look, it might ruin the story for you, okay? And you wouldn’t want to ruin the story, would you? Of course, you wouldn’t.

So anyway, where were we before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes: I was tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail.

Okay, I might’ve stolen something from the bandits. There. Are you happy now? It’s possible that I sneaked into their little bandit camp and helped myself to the teensiest, tiniest bit of treasure, and it’s conceivable that they were a tad peeved about that. And I suppose that might have had something to do with why they were chasing me. Maybe.

It was barely a speck of pixie dust, I swear. And for that, they wanted to wring my neck! Sheesh. How stingy can you be? Not that I’ve ever heard of generous bandits, mind you. But still.

Can we move on now?

There I was, tearing through the woods at top speed, a gang of murderous bandits hot on my tail. I had a good lead on them, but they were sprinting on masculine and murderous feet and I was—er—traipsing along on my ever-so-dainty lotus blossoms— What? My feet are dainty!—so I knew I wouldn’t have the advantage for long.

Not being big on precautionary measures, I screeched to a halt and peeked out from beneath my hood to evaluate my options. The trees on either side of the road were too dense for me to cut through. Even at midday, I wouldn’t be able to see two feet in front of me.

The bandits were closing in, their bloodlust hanging thick in the air. Even the birds had sensed the danger and stopped singing—I was trapped!

Now, when I say road, bear in mind that the road we were running on was more like a path. It was as though some guy had hacked his way through the woods with a machete, figuring that hiking single file was a fine method of travel. Weeds grew high on either side, and starting a scuffle in them was not exactly appealing.

Knowing the terrain better than I did, the enemy had been able to circle around and surround me. I wasn’t too sure of the situation, so I decided it was best to mind my manners for the time being. Still, I had to say something to flush them out.

“I know you’re there,” I shouted, biting my tongue to squelch the sarcasm.

“Well, hello there, toots.”

Who’s it gonna be this time? I wondered. A talking skeleton, maybe? A zombie? Nope. Who’da thunk your average eyepatch-wearing bald brute would have the nerve to call me “toots”? Go figure.

Maybe he’d bolstered his confidence with his oh-so-scary outlaw outfit? Aware that any good look starts off with decent skincare, baldy had gone for a bronzy glow—by massaging his skin with what, judging by the smell, could only have been fetid pork fat. He sported a shirtless ensemble, accessorized with a scimitar, achieving a style that screamed, “I AM A FILTHY, DISGUSTING THUG!” And yet, despite his brute fashion, it seemed he was bent on talking me to death.

“What ya did to us back there wasn’t nice,” he growled.

No duh, genius.

“And now, here ya are, all by yer lonesome and at our mercy.” He licked his lips.

Um… ew.

“Aw now, ya can relax” he said, and slid into a smile so greasy that his cheeks actually made squishing sounds. “I don’t wanna fight ya, toots. Ya look like a biter, ya do, and I don’t fancy tussling with a gal who’d leave me marked.”

“Now, ya got yerself an impressive set of balls, I gotta say. Downright admirable. And yer technique’s real professional-like—busting in and tossing magic around left and right, setting the place aflame, cooking the boss-man to a crisp, and then, once the ruckus was well under way, sneaking into the vault and making off with our loot. Speaking strictly as a professional, I gotta say I was impressed.”

Um, earlier I forgot to mention the parts about the fire and the leader-killing, didn’t I? Sorry about that. I guess that had something to do with why they were chasing me, too. Oh well. No rest for the wicked, I always say.

“Ya got us good. At first we figured we’d chase ya down and exact our revenge, in a fashion befitting our scurrilous reputation, but somewheres along the road I got to thinking maybe there’s a better way, hmmm… ? Maybe the thing to do is to have ya join up with us, huh? Whaddaya say, toots?”

Join up with you? I feel like I need to take a shower just for talking to you, cretin.

“Ya’ll have to return the booty, of course, but ya agree to join up with us and we’ll consider yer killin’ the boss to be water under the bridge.”

I acted like I was thinking it over.

“It ain’t a bad deal I’m offering ya,” he continued. “It’s what ya might call nonviolent conflict resolution, makin’ the best out of a had situation. Give and take: We make use of yer talents, and ya got yerself a gang. Ya give us back our stolen treasure, and we let ya keep breathing. It ain’t such a bad deal, see? Whaddaya say?” he asked, and his smile opened up like a wound.

I see how it is, I thought. Until I knocked off their leader, baldy here had been the number-two guy. So really, I did him a favor. He doesn’t want revenge; he just wants his treasure back and the addition of my special skills to his arsenal. He was probably sweet on me, too. Who could blame him? Unfortunately for him, I have a strict no-return policy where treasure is concerned, and I’m just not depraved enough to hook up with a band of thieves.

Could you imagine waking up every morning to a guy like that asking you, “What’s up, toots?” No, thank you. Ladies, where are the princes on white horses the storybooks promised us, huh? Couldn’t there be just one among this sea of ill-mannered thugs?

Yeah, I didn’t think so. Oh well. A girl can dream.

“Better answer fast, toots. Never know what kind of scum’s roaming around this neck of the woods. Ain’t no place to be a-napping.”

That guy sure was a talker. Bear in mind, I hadn’t said a word since he’d started yammering. I stood there silently while he went on and on and on. And on. And on, some more. What is it with men loving to hear the sound of their own voice?

Right about the time he started winding down with, “So, toots, how’s about it?” I sensed another presence entering our sphere. Hmmm…

“Not a chance,” I growled in as low a voice as I could manage without straining, and I dug my heels in the ground to emphasize my point.

“Why, ya little…” he snarled and he stopped, his mouth hanging open as his wee bandit brain struggled to simultaneously process anger and disappointment. Multitasking evidently wasn’t his strong point, and the pressure caused him to turn bright red. Actual steam shot out of his ears, I think.

“Ya little…” He tried again.

Finally, he found the words he was searching for: “Ya little arrogant bitch.”

Oh, bravo. I can see why it took you so long to come up with that one.

“I made ya a generous offer and ya threw it back in my face! For that, we’re gonna feed ya yer liver! Have at ‘er, boys!”

And with that, ten men stepped out of the forest and surrounded me. Ten.

“Ten guys? That’s it?” It just slipped out. I didn’t want to be rude, but ten? C’mon. It was insulting. Oh sure, the ten guys puffed up their chests and made a show of how tough they were, which I suppose I appreciated, but really. Ten guys? It was as if they had no faith in me. Sad.

“Oh now, this ain’t all of us, toots. Our mates in the woods are aiming their razor-tipped arrows at ya right now. When I say the word—THWANNG! Yer a pincushion. Now, I’m gonna give ya one more chance to save yerself.”

Amateurs! Those were obvious lies. As both a swordswoman and a sorceress, I have impeccable instincts for when I’m being aimed at. If I were in anyone else’s crosshairs, I’d have known it. Those peabrains were way beneath my talents, and I was starting to get bored, when…

“Shall I wait for you to call some friends, so we can have a fair fight?”

The presence I’d sensed earlier! We all turned to see where that zinger had come from. A lone wandering mercenary materialized from among the trees, the rays of morning light reflecting off his drawn sword.

Somebody cue the chorus of angels, would you?

That man was an awe-inspiring vision of wondrous wonderfulness. He was tall, he was blond, and did I say tall already? His breastplate had been forged from the scales of a black iron serpent and judging by his sword, he made a decent living as an archetypical light fighter: fast and skilled. I told you he was tall, right? Did I mention he was a hottie?

“Piece of advice, fellas: If you all take off at a dead sprint now, a few of you might actually make it back to the rock you’ve crawled from under before I catch up and exterminate you like the vermin you are. One or two of you might even escape with your lives. That is, if you start right now”

Not a bad threat, I thought.

The chatty bald beast sputtered and spewed and spat and at last shouted back, “Just who the hell are ya to be creeping out from the woods and interrupting our delicate negotiations with yer ugly threats and insults, huh?”

“I don’t care to sully my name by giving it to you,” the blond replied.

Ouch. Okay, well, that was a little embarrassing. Frankly, the whole thing just got more clichéd and harder to stomach from there. Not that I had any choice, I mean, where was I going to go? I just stood there, probably looking like I’d swallowed a bug, which is pretty much how I felt.

I shouldn’t have complained, right? I mean, doesn’t every girl want a handsome rescuer to sweep in when she’s in a pinch? So what if she could’ve handled the whole thing on her own and the handsome rescuer in question didn’t have the verbal acuity she was hoping for? A gal can’t afford to be too picky these days, can she? I know, I know, but play along, will ya?

“Ya little… !”

Oh no. You think he’ll do any better this time?

“Ya impertinent cad!”

Guess not.

“We’re gonna feed ya both yer livers now! Have at ‘em, boys!”

At last, the sword fight began.

I considered helping the guy out, but I didn’t want to embarrass him. Besides, the proper role of a heroine is to run around shrieking in an excruciatingly high-pitched voice, isn’t it? I mean, otherwise what’s the point?

I’d never done the running-around-and-shrieking thing before, and I gotta say, should you get the opportunity, I highly recommend it. It’s a lot more fun than you’d expect.

Anyway, there I was, shrieking like my life depended on it and pretending I had no idea what was going on around me. Sadly, the whole thing wrapped up quickly. The blond prevailed, of course.

Breathless and glowing with victory, he made his way over a minefield of bandit bodies and swept up to me. “Are you all right, milady?” he asked, his eyes seeking out my own. He took his first good long look at me, drinking in my loveliness, and… he was speechless.

Now, I don’t want to brag, but I am not exactly lacking in the looks department. Big, round eyes, a peaches-and-cream complexion; all perched atop a tight little body in petite proportions. Poor thing, he didn’t stand a chance.

He sighed—with admiration and longing, I was sure. When at last able to speak, he did so quietly, as though mumbling a prayer. It was barely as audible as a whisper, and had I not been a gifted sorceress with the enhanced hearing that accompanies that role, I probably wouldn’t have heard him at all. O lucky me!

“Great. She’s just a kid.”

Just a kid? Okay. That stung a little.

Oh, but wait—there’s more!

“This is what I get for not looking more carefully before I get into these things. I mean, I like kids. I want to be a standup guy, but c’mon! Ten guys, I fought! Ten guys! Is it so much to ask that one of these days there’s a babe waiting for me at the other end? Somebody hot, you know? All breathless and grateful… is that too much to hope for? Apparently so. And now I’m stuck looking after Little Miss No-Boobs.”

Gah!

Okay, I suppose I am a little underdeveloped for a girl my age. And I’m… I’m not very tall. All right, I’m short. Is that what you want me to say? I’m short and I’m flat-chested. What’s the big deal, huh? At least I can run fast and my clothes hang right. Boobs are overrated, if you ask me.

Shit! Why do they always get you where you’re sensitive?

I’m sure he didn’t think I could hear his mumbling. A normal person couldn’t have, but for better or worse, my ears are as sensitive as an elf’s. For worse this time, I’d say. Ouch.

Regardless, he had helped me out of a bit of a pinch, so I had an obligation to thank him.

“Th-thank you very much,” I stuttered, and I smiled as broadly as I could.

“No need to thank me at all.” He managed something of a smile in return. ‘Are you hurt, little miss?”

Little miss?! God, help me…

“You know, it’s not safe for a little girl to be wandering around in an area like this on her own. Were you traveling with your father or someone? Are you separated? Lost?”

Grr… “No, no… I’m—uh—by myself…”

I guessed maybe all that blond hair was making it hard for him to see. I mean, if it had been me, I’d like to think I’d have figured out pretty quickly that the lovely creature before me was no helpless little kid.

“Well, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. How about if I escort you home, sweetie?”

Oh, now… wait just a damn minute—!

“Where do your mommy and daddy live?”

Grrrrrr! “Uh, I’m by myself. I don’t live anywhere, exactly… I was just heading to Atlas City—”

“I see, well, there’s no need for you to explain. I understand completely. You’re in a pretty rough spot, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I completely understand. We all have our circumstances,” he said in a maddeningly condescending tone.

“No, um, I don’t think you do understand.”

“Oh, I understand more than you think I understand.”

What?! I don’t even think I understand what it is you think that I think that you don’t understand!

In retrospect, I think he thought he’d rescued a helpless little girl who’d been forced to live on her own as a result of some sort of tragedy At the time, I suspected he was going to keep spewing the same reassurances until he died of suffocation or I died of embarrassment. One of us had to put an end to it.

“No, really. I’m fine. I appreciate your kindness, but I’m not a victim. I’m an adventuress, off to see the world.” I was telling him the truth—which, incidentally, was no small feat for me!

“Really, I don’t mean to pry, miss. You don’t have to make any excuses for my benefit.”

Okay, now, this just sucks. For once in my life, I’m not making excuses!

I didn’t know what else to say.

‘All right then, miss. How about if I stick with you and see that you reach Atlas City safely?”

Bad ideal Bad ideal Bad—idea!

“Oh mister, n-no… no—no need for you to go so far out of your way! I-I couldn’t.”

I wasn’t kidding, either. Atlas City was TEN DAYS AWAY I couldn’t imagine spending twenty-four hours a day side by side with Mr. Perceptiveness for TEN DAYS without succumbing to the temptation to commit the premeditated murder of a blond.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I think you need a friend.”

He was obviously committed to the idea.

“But… I…”

The conversation went on like that for a while. I objected. He objected to my objection. I understood where he was coming from, but I thought he misunderstood. He appreciated my understanding, but he thought I misunderstood his understanding. And so on until, between understanding, misunderstanding, thinking and objecting, my head was throbbing, and I no longer cared who went with me, so long as we got moving.

We hadn’t been on the road twenty minutes before he felt the need to speak again. “I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves yet. I’m Gourry. As you’ve likely deduced, I’m a traveling swordsman. And you?”

I considered giving him a fake name, but honestly, I was too tired to see the point.

“I’m Lina. I’m a… traveler.”

There. I gave him my real name. And I am a traveler. So maybe I left out a few important details. So what? Gourry had already proven he wasn’t the type to ask penetrating questions. I figured that he’d buy pretty much anything I wanted to sell him about my circumstances, which, as far as I was concerned, was a point in his favor.

And maybe he wasn’t exactly a brain trust unto himself, but he seemed like a nice guy His heart was in the right place, anyway.

It wasn’t like he’d been all, “Hey little missy, let’s you and I go take little voyage together, heh, heh, heh…” Um, ew. If he’d shown any sort of sleazy ulterior motive, I’d have turned him into troll meal. But, he seemed genuinely concerned about me, so I couldn’t exactly be mean to him. And he really wasn’t getting under my skin like I’d figured he would. Still, the prospect of being treated like a kid all the way to Atlas City did not bode well for either of us. Not that I wanted him to flirt with me, that’s not what I’m saying. I just… I’m digging a hole here, aren’t I? Okay, whatever. Let’s just leave it at: He seemed like a nice guy.

With Gourry “escorting” me, I didn’t get a chance to be alone and catch my breath until after we’d found a town that night, gotten directions to the local inn, had some dinner, checked in, gone to our rooms, and said bonsoir for the evening. It sure felt great to be alone. The room wasn’t especially large, and it smelled like burning oil. The, uh, decor left something to be desired, but it was furnished with all that I required—a bed, table, and oil lamp—and it felt downright posh after the day I’d had.

I unfastened my mantle—which is a loose, sleeveless coat or cloak—and tossed it on the floor. It hit the hardwood with a thud, a jingle, and a series of ker-chinks.

Oh, like you’ve never thrown your clothes on the floor. Who are you, my mom? I was tired. Leave me alone.

Thanks to a little spell I’d whipped up to keep my hands free, my mantle, which extends from my collar to my knees, always lies flat, even though it’s lined with leather pouches for holding my loot.

It remains smooth, but unfortunately not silent, and the clanking and clinking of confiscated bandit booty had been driving me nuts all day. I was looking forward to the chance to empty the pouches and appraise my spoils. This was no small task, mind you, as I’d been… uh… working without a vacation for a while, and I hadn’t had a chance to organize. And those leather pouches fill fast because of my basic plundering philosophy, which is to grab anything that looks like it might be valuable and then sort it all out later.

The paltry amount of light produced by a cheap lodge-oil lamp was hardly sufficient for proper treasure evaluation, so I formed a sphere of light between my open palms, and then proceeded to raise it to the ceiling. Voilà! Just a simple lighting spell, but it was bright enough to tan in that room when I was finished. I emptied my leather pouches and spread their contents on the floor around me. I counted some two or three hundred glittering gemstones, a few coins, a large knife, and a statue of some sort.

I could tell right off that most of the gemstones were flawed. The statue appeared to be of a goddess, but more important, it was made of Orihalcon, and for that reason alone was a valuable find. The knife had some kind of “weapons magic” attached to it, that I couldn’t identify. I considered trying to use it, but you never know what something like that might do to an innocent bystander. I decided that the safest thing would be to pawn it at the next magic shop I came across. Finally, there were a few dozen coins minted by the Duchy of Ledis, and since the Duchy had been destroyed some five hundred years before, I figured they would fetch a tidy sum.

And that was it.

It wasn’t much of a haul, but what else would you expect from a low-end operation like Baldy McEyepatch and his Ten Merry Hoods?

A mountain of flawed gemstones is still a mountain of gemstones, and a mountain of gemstones is a sight to behold. A girl could buy herself many a fancy-schmancy dinner with even half a mountain of gemstones. And what else does any girl need?

Well actually, if she happens to be a sorceress, she needs a whole lot more than a few nice dinners to make her way in the world! But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Back to the gemstones.

I divided them by type, and then into flawed and flawless groups. The flawless gems were fine as they were, but the flawed ones couldn’t be sold for much. Unless…

I fished a crystal sphere about the size of a child’s fist out of my bag and placed it on the floor in front of me. It spun around several times, and then came to a decisive stop with its engraved symbol pointing to my right.

I pulled a parchment from my bag. Its breadth and width measured the span of my arm, and it glowed the color of an elf maiden’s skin.

This probably goes without saying, but just in case: I need you to keep anything I tell you about my materials on the down low. My spells are trade secrets, and the last thing I need is a bunch of amateurs stirring up forces they can’t control. So, all the details of spell-casting? Just between us, okay? Cool!

From my bag I retrieved another, smaller parchment bearing a symbol block-printed on it. I took one of the flawless rubies and positioned it over the symbol on the larger parchment. I then placed the smaller parchment over the ruby, like I was making a ruby-and-parchment sandwich. As I chanted a fire spell, the smaller paper ignited, turning to ashes in an instant.

“Step one, check!” I peered into the gemstone from above. Sure enough, the symbol from the smaller paper had sealed itself inside the gem.

I then selected one of the flawed rubies and held it lightly in my left hand, four-to-six inches above the marked gem, while chanting an air spell. The stone in my hand crumbled into a shower of blood-colored dust, which sifted down onto the bewitched stone below

I repeated the technique until I’d disposed of the last of the flawed rubies, and the large parchment, on which the stone had rested, was covered with a mound of ruby dust.

“Step two…”

Over the mound, I sprinkled some clear liquid from a small bottle, placed my left palm over that, and chanted a succession of earth-and-water spells, much like the fire-and-air spells I’d used before. My palm got hot as the ruby dust flared with bright white light. After a moment, the light dimmed, and the pile had taken the form of a large ruby dumpling.

Ta-da! Total victory!

What? Don’t you like giant ruby dumplings? Okay, psych! That wasn’t what I was going for either. But just wait.

At first, the dumpling looked like an ill-conceived attempt at pottery. But slowly the surface began to glaze over, and then, a few minutes later, it hardened. The dumpling had shaped itself into a larger version of the bewitched ruby, complete with enclosed power symbol.

“One down!”

I used the same technique on the remaining emeralds, sapphires, and amethysts. When I was done, I had a set of enchanted gems that could be used as simple talismans or combined with other charms or weapons to enhance their powers. More important, I could sell them for a much better price.

Time out. I’d like to take a moment and mention that my own pendant—as well as my bandana and the short sword that I wear on my hip—have all been enhanced in just this way. If you don’t have a jeweled amulet, I highly recommend that you acquire one. They’re fashionable, oh-so-practical, and right now, they’re all the rage with the well-to-do. If you do decide to get one, I would advise that you spare no expense and get the best you can afford. If you’re a person of means, you can even have it custom-made by a talented and experienced sorceress.

Someone like me for instance. I could totally hook you up.

Okay, end of commercial.

Only nine more days to Atlas City. Hang in there, Lina!

* * *

The following morning, Gourry and I traveled on, side-by-side. The weather was perfect, and a symphony of gurgles from a nearby stream filled the air. A gentle breeze wafted through the woods around us, turning the leaves of various trees into nature’s own confetti. Golden light filtered through powder-puff clouds, making the path before us glow. It was one of those magical days.

I closed my eyes, drew in a chestful of the purest air in the world and thought: If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to have to kill someone.

Hey! I don’t kid around when it comes to food. A girl’s gotta eat when a girl’s gotta eat. And this girl’s gotta eat often.

The next inn was a full day’s hike from the last one with nothing but rocks and weeds in between. As it crept up on noon, I started looking around for a flat area off the road to settle down with my lunch pack.

“Hang in there, little lady.”

Gourry had noticed my energy waning and mistook my insatiable hunger for fatigue. He was trying to say something to bolster my spirits, which was nice, but I really wished he’d cut the “little lady” crap.

“Times like these, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

“Except I’m not a man.”

I think I threw him with that one.

“Well, when the going gets tough, the tough get going.”

“Fine. When do the tough stop for lunch?”

He had to think about that for a minute. We stopped. We stared. We contemplated our quandary while water babbled in the background… which is probably where we got the clever idea to go fishing in the stream that ran parallel to the path.

The stream in question was actually more of a river—too large for swimming in safely, though the water was clear. Fortunately, the sandy soil of the riverbank made it comfy to sit on for fishing.

“Here fishy, fishy, fishy,” I sang softly to myself as I collected a suitable tree branch from the forest floor and retrieved a fish-hook from my pack. I pulled out a few strands of my long, luxurious chestnut-colored hair and used them as line. Voilà! A fishing rod.

“Hey, you’re pretty good at this stuff,” said Gourry, sounding genuinely impressed.

“As a wise man once said, Gourry: You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

I set the rod aside and headed to the river’s edge. I moved a few rocks, dug around in the mud bank, and was rewarded with a handful of squirmy worms. I baited my hook and began to fish.

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Nothing. Fishing is all about patience, you know.

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Still nothing.

Here, stupid fishy, $#@!$#—!!!

Eventually, I did manage to catch quite a few fish, but it required a bit more sweet talk. Gourry built a fire; I cleaned and salted; and we cooked them on the spot. They were YUMMY! Frankly, I was so hungry at that point that they could have been breaded and fried in goblin blood, and I still would’ve eaten a dozen whole.

“Lina, you eat the tails?”

Don’t be such a little girl, Gourry.

“Waste not, want not,” I answered, figuring I owed him for that whole when-the-going-gets-tough-the-tough-get-going non-sense. He didn’t so much as smile. Why doesn’t anyone ever get my jokes? “Gourry, I can understand not eating the eyeballs if you’re squeamish, but why would you want to throw away the guts? That’s, like, a third of the weight of the fish.”

“I am not eating fish guts,” he replied resolutely.

“But they’re the tastiest paaart,” I teased, putting my lovely singing voice to good use. I scooped up some fish gut between my fingers and dangled it in his face before tossing it back and showing him how it was done. I slurped up the last bit through a big grin just for show.

“Lina, the stomach’s in the guts.”

“Yes it is, Gourry.”

“So, the worms you used as bait… you just ate them.”

I thought about that for a minute and then started spitting. I spat and spat and spat and rubbed my tongue on the grass, scraping it with my fingernails and concentrating hard on not throwing up.

“Okay, even if that is the case—”

“It is.”

“Yeah, I get that now! But even so, you shouldn’t point out things like that while someone’s eating.” Grrrrr.

We ate the rest of the fish without the guts. Gourry ate only his share. I checked. We sat there picking at the bones for a bit.

“I’m still hungry, Gourry.”

“Me, too,” he said. I reached for my rod to do more fishing, but I froze mid-motion. I sensed something ugly nearby.

“Goblins…” Gourry whispered under his breath, while we both tried to act nonchalant, “… about fourteen of them.”

Okey dokey.

I grabbed my fishing rod.

Remember when I said that there was nothing between the last town and the next but weeds and rocks? Change that to: weeds and rocks and a whole buttload of goblins. Thanks.

How much do you know about goblins? Let me give you the basics: Goblins are roughly humanoid, but stand only about chest high to the average adult human being. They’re generally—though not exclusively—nocturnal, kind of stupid, and prone to violence. They spook easily, so they tend to avoid human settlements, though they’ll happily poach cattle from the outskirts of towns and villages. In general, they’re not crazy about human beings, and I wouldn’t think that finding people wandering around their turf would fill them with glee. That’s the bad news. The good news is that they’re easy to make fun of.

I grasped my fishing hook with my left hand, narrowed my Incus, and began chanting a hunger spell of my own devising.

I’m not going to teach you the spell, so don’t even ask. I try not to use it; and if I taught it to you, you’d teach it to someone else and pretty soon there’d be no fish left in the sea! So, seriously, don’t even ask.

I’d just finished chanting when one of the goblins let loose a horrific yelp that must have been a war cry. The lot of them came screaming from the undergrowth, rusty spiked clubs and swords at the ready They were expecting us to run, of course.

“Shhh! Quiet!” I shouted in passable Goblin, and Gourry and I held our ground.

The goblins halted.

Taking advantage of the momentary opening, I lowered the fishhook under the surface of the water.

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Silence.

The goblins muttered among themselves something along the lines of, “What’s up with the crazy red-headed broad?” They watched me carefully, trying to figure out what I was doing, but they didn’t attack.

And then… I got a bite.

“Aw, yeah!” I yawped, yanking both line and fish high out of the water. “Whoa! That’s a big one!” A huge fish danced in midair, whipping around the line and spraying us with river water. I took the fish off the line, also in midair; and it flopped on the ground before us.

That last bit, incidentally, was even more difficult than it sounds. Be impressed.

“Grab it!” I shouted in Goblin.

“Gii!” they responded.

“Gya gya, gukii!”

“Gyuge!”

Yes, well done.

The goblins danced around like they’d just won the lottery I kept catching fish, and they kept dancing. I had to bring in two dozen fish before I had them circled in as close as I wanted them.

I handed my rod over to the nearest oaf.

“Gi?”

“Sure. This one works real good. Wanna try it?”

“Gi… ?”

He tilted his head to one side and looked at me like my words made no sense. How rude! My Goblin may not be polished, but it’s not exactly a sophisticated language. I lowered the hook into the water for him and—he got a bite instantly!

“Giggi!”

His companions congratulated him and conveniently forgot all about Gourry and me. We crept quietly out of the area.

* * *

“You know some pretty crazy tricks,” said Gourry, and I had to smile at that one.

At nightfall, we waltzed into the dining hall of the next town’s single-story inn. The air was perfumed with the scent of ale and tobacco; but I was hungry again, and when they brought out meaty drumsticks, I quickly became oblivious to my surroundings. The drumsticks were really good. Mmmm…

I blinked when Gourry spoke, and the room snapped back into focus. Gourry was staring at me blankly from across the table.

What? I blinked again. The candle on the table flickered. I brought my cup to my lips and took a sip of juice. Some pretty crazy tricks? I took another bite from the drumstick in my left hand.

Gourry’s mouth was hanging open incredulously.

Ah, now I remember. “About earlier…”

Gourry’s incredulous expression advanced to who-is-this-little-girl-anyway.

What? What’s the big deal about a little fishing spell? Sheesh. Did he think I was entirely helpless?

“That was pretty basic magic,” I explained. “Not really worth going into, I promise.”

He grunted in admiration. “So… you’re some kind of sorceress, then?”

Gah!

Now it was my jaw’s turn to drop. “Some kind of sorceress? Yes, I am some kind of sorceress! What did you think?”

I’d like to explain that from the moment that Gourry first laid eyes on me, I have been dressed like SOME KIND OF SORCERESS. I wear trousers and long boots, which in fairness doesn’t indicate anything about my profession except, perhaps, that I am not a princess. However, I also wear a loose robe, cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt, a pair of leather gloves, and a bandana over my forehead. Thinly armored epaulets protect my shoulders, and my mantle stretches to my knees. And get this: Every item I have just described to you is embroidered in silver filament with magical symbols. I wear a silver necklace and silver bracelets. And, the short sword I carry on my left hip is embedded with an enchanted gemstone I made myself. I couldn’t look more like a sorceress if I wore a sticker on my chest that said “Hello, my name is LINA and I’m a SORCERESS!”

Did he seriously think I was some kind of fishmonger or a waitress at Le Café Sorcerie?

“Hmmm… I’m not really sure now that you ask. After all that business on the river, I guess I thought you might be some kind of fishmonger or maybe a waitress?”

Die, Gourry! DIE!

I buried my face in my soup dish.

Oh, hey…there’s still a little left in here.

“Relax,” Gourry said, “I’m just kidding. I didn’t think you were a fishmonger. I got you pretty good, though….”

“You sure did. I was going to kill you, but I got distracted by my soup.” I used a handkerchief to wipe the stew off my face as I spoke. He didn’t laugh. I probably should’ve explained that I, too, was kidding, but I’m not a very good sport. Let him wonder.

“So how good are you, anyway? Can you use a fireball? You look like you might be able to handle Black Magic.”

Sorcery, I should explain, is divided into three classes: White Magic, Black Magic, and Shamanic Magic. The latter makes use of the four elements (earth, water, fire, air) and the spirit world—it’s the mainstay of any sorcerer. My real specialty though is Black Magic, which isn’t as dastardly as it sounds—I use only the offensive spells, not the curses. It’s a common misconception that all offensive spells are Black Magic, but many of them are actually Shamanic Magic. The fireball that Gourry mentioned is classified as Shamanic Magic—and it’s a doozy!

“I look like I might be able to handle Black Magic? Is that how little you think of me?”

“No! It’s just, you seem like a pretty easygoing type.”

Riiiight.

“Well, whatever,” he sighed. “It looks like I’m going to see what you can do in just a second anyway.”

How’s that? I wondered. By the time I’d formed that thought, the door to the inn had been kicked open.

“That’s her,” someone growled.

I turned my head in the direction of the ruckus and locked eyes with the growler.

Aw, crap. He was pointing right at me. I was hoping I would turn around to find the grump behind the growl was actually gunning for some other unfortunate “her,” but the index finger in my face dashed my hopes.

You don’t suppose he saw Gourry’s hair and mistook him for a woman, do you? No such luck.

A parade of trolls soon filed in; and behind them, a mummy who appeared to be controlling the lot. Looking closer, I could see that he wasn’t an actual mummy, but a living person wrapped in bandages. Whoever he was, he was clearly a sorcerer.

“Oh my! I’m certain you have the wrong girl!” I gave him a two-fisted smile and tried to keep my eyes from focusing so I wouldn’t look too smart.

“My name is Sophia. I think you must be looking for—”

“Shut up! I’m not concerned about your name, I know your face! You’re the one who robbed us!”

Whoops. Yeah, you got me.

“Oh, was that bad? I’m sorry, guys. Maybe we can work something out… ?”

Gourry eyed me suspiciously.

“I’ll explain later,” I whispered. “First, we’d better—”

About then, I felt troll breath on my cheek.

Familiar with trolls? Quick refresher just in case: Trolls are about twice as large as humans, and they’re as strong as all get out. They’re also surprisingly agile, considering their immensity. The really important thing to remember about trolls, though, is that they’re gifted with rapid regeneration, which means anything less than an instant kill heals within seconds. And that means, of course, that the only way to kill them is with a single blow. Also worth mentioning: Fighting a troll with showy attack spells indoors is a good way to wreck an inn and wipe out your savings. Not that I speak from experience—just trust me on this one. It tends to be dangerous for bystanders as well.

“Have it your way,” I said as I rose from my chair. “Let’s take this outside.”

“No way.”

“Okay…”

Great. The innkeeper is going to hate me.

“Give us back what you stole, and we’ll be on our way.”

Oh, fat chance. “Not gonna happen. I don’t respond well to threats. Especially threats that come from thieving wizards.”

“Excuse me, but aren’t you a thieving sorceress?” Gourry was heckling me from the sidelines.

“Oh, stuff it. Stealing from thieves is fair play.” Sadly, my line of reasoning was failing to impress the bad guys who outnumbered us.

“Get them!” the mummy man commanded, and the trolls moved into action. I moved into action, too.

My foes were armed only with sharp claws and brute strength, but believe me, that was enough. Even though my clothes, as talismans, were charmed, those claws wouldn’t have any trouble slicing right into my guts. One swipe and I was troll feed.

The first and largest launched the initial attack, which I evaded. Using his own right hand as leverage, I swung backward in a half-somersault as the next troll drew near. With the momentum from that move, I slid between the legs of the troll coming toward me, hitting him in the crotch and grabbing onto one of his feet. I may not be able to beat a troll with acrobatics, hut I could throw him off balance for a moment, enabling me to use him as a shield, thus minimizing my enemy’s numbers advantage. It almost sounds like I planned it that way, doesn’t it?

I sensed bloodlust behind me, and the very next moment another troll sent his claws deep into my mantle.

Sorry, ugly, but the mantle’s all you get. I’d slipped it off my shoulder guards a fraction of a second before. I’m so good!

The troll had put too much force into his blow, which sent him stumbling to the floor. I stepped ever-so-lightly on his head as I made my way to my next opponent.

Things went on like this for a while, and I soon found myself next to Gourry. Only this time, I was doing battle and he was watching, like it was some kind of exhibition match!

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks. Did you miss me?” I huffed.

What did he think he was doing, sitting back and watching a poor, innocent girl take on a bunch of trolls?

Don’t argue with me. I can play the poor, innocent-girl card any time I like, thankyouverymuch. And anyway, his behavior was completely inexcusable!

The trolls remained undaunted. Probably because I hadn’t managed to do more than knock down a single one.

“You cheeky little—”

Well at least I’d accomplished something—I was getting on the mummy man’s nerves. Right on.

“Gourry! Could you make an effort to hurt those trolls?” I asked sharply.

“Sure but… uh… you do know that trolls regenerate, right?”

“Yes, I do! Don’t try to educate me. Just do it—quick!”

Well, if any wound will do no matter how small—”

“That’s fine, just do it!”

While Gourry and I had been strategizing, the trolls had closed the distance between them and us. Time to get serious, Gourry.

“All right! I’m on it,” he said, thrusting his right hand into his pocket and pulling out a fistful of nuts. Yes, nuts. The sorts of things that squirrels consider gourmet. I was wondering whether or not he was nuts, when…

“Argh!”

“Ack!”

Flicking his fingertips, Gourry had managed not only to penetrate the trolls’ hides with those small nuts, but to bury the squirrel feed deep into their flesh. He had propelled those nuts with a level of force that would’ve been more than sufficient to take down normal men.

“Interesting technique, kid,” chuckled the mummy man. “Too bad about the rapid regeneration, though…” But before mister mummy was finished feeling smug, the trolls cried out in unison. The tiny wounds Gourry had inflicted were expanding quickly.

“W-what’s happening?! What have you done?” shrieked the mummy man, thoroughly flustered.

The wounds expanded in all directions, ripping the trolls’ tubby tummies into pieces. When it was finally over, more than half their bodies were gone.

It looked pretty nasty. I’m glad it wasn’t right before supper.

The mummy man and the trolls who remained were thoroughly freaked out and appeared to have lost their appetite for fighting. They were whispering among themselves about the crazy new magic I’d just used to chop up their buddies. Fear of the unknown is a powerful weapon. I’ll let you in on a little secret: What I did to those trolls was a lot smarter than it was difficult. Think of it as a reversal of the White Magic healing spell, if you like.

Here’s the deal: A healing spell, as the name suggests, uses spirit power to accelerate the rate at which damage done to the physical body is repaired. By reversing it, I used the trolls’ own healing powers against them. Of course, this would also be at a highly accelerated rate. Remember, trolls have rapid regenerative abilities already. So, by reversing that ability, and amplifying it even further, the tiniest wound causes their bodies to self-destruct.

Thank you, thank you. Now, please hold your applause until the end of the show, folks.

And yes, since you’re wondering, that is indeed another original spell. Normally I wouldn’t use something that nasty in combat, but you can’t get away with just slowing trolls down.

If I hadn’t used it, I might’ve ended up losing more than just my breath.

The spell had worn off, but I’d figured the rest of the group would bolt at that point, anyway. Unfortunately, one last troll proved to be more stubborn than I’d expected. He locked eyes with me and charged. I drew my short sword from my hip and began to chant as he leapt toward me.

Luckily, I was quicker on my feet than he was.

Claw and sword sparked a second, then a third time. The troll left himself open for a moment, and…

“Aha!” I shouted, and my sword sunk deep into his belly.

He grinned.

Another public service announcement: A smiling troll is never a good sign. Now you know.

He had me right where he wanted me. His objective had been to expose his midsection so that I’d strike. Then, I’d be trapped. If I let go of my weapon, I’d be defenseless and dead meat. If I didn’t let go, I’d be trapped within my enemy’s reach, while he’d survive because of his regenerative powers.

But just as he was preparing to gloat, I was settling the fight.

“Lightning!” I called out, using my sword to conduct the Mono Volt spell. The troll’s torso split apart.

That’s what you get for showing off big guy.

The poor thing’s enormous frame thrashed about as it screamed out in pain and finally—mercifully—expired. There was a colossal THUD as each of his limbs simultaneously gave up the fight and crashed to the floor.

Next?

“No more playtime, kids.” I slapped my hands together in front of my chest, closed my eyes, and began to chant. As I slowly separated my palms, a blue-white ball of light appeared between them and grew brighter and brighter.

“F-f-fireballllll!” The mummy man’s eyes widened as he bellowed. “Run! Ruunnn!” He and the trolls who were left took off in a hurry, screaming like their pants were already on fire.

“Whew…” I let out a loud sigh of relief, still holding the ball of light.

“‘Whew’ nothing!” shouted little girly Gourry from across the room. “What are you going to do with that fireball?!” Apparently he, too, feared the power of the fireball spell and had made his way toward the exit.

The fireball is a notorious fire-attack spell used by sorcerers almost universally. The area where the ball of light falls is instantly engulfed in flames, exterminating anything that lives or breathes in the area. Though its destructive power varies from user to user, a direct hit will invariably take a human from “rare” to “well done” before the poor thing even knows what’s coming.

“Oh, this… ?” I took a long look at what was between my palms and then gently lobbed it upward.

“Aahhhh!” everyone in the room cried out, and then: There was silence.

Gourry was the first to look up… timidly.

“Oh relax, will you? It’s not a fireball.” I smiled and pointed to the white ornament in the air above me. “It’s a lighting spell.” And I laughed and laughed. My goodness I’m a funny girl. I crack myself up.

“What are you going to do about all this?!” interjected the innkeeper, who didn’t find me amusing at all.

I knew this was coming.

The tables and chairs were all smashed up. Corpses were strewn about like peanut shells, and the air was perfumed with L’Eau de Troll Blood. There was indeed a lot of splatter. I mean, a lot. And thanks to the lighting spell, you couldn’t miss a drop of it. It was pretty gross, I guess. More slaughterhouse than tavern, it was not exactly the sort of ambiance people crave in a dining experience. Most of the customers had already relocated to the next inn down the street. The ones who’d stayed were weeping and rocking back and forth.

Heck, I couldn’t blame the guy. If it had been my inn, I’d have been pissed, too. Still, I’d just decimated a small army of trolls and wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, so I put on my best penitent face. In addition to sorcery, I’m an expert at looking cute.

“Gee, mister. I know my companion and I caused you a lot of trouble, but,” I lifted my chin and looked doe-eyed at the old man and whispered, “if we hadn’t, they would’ve killed us!” I slipped the hand that was behind my back out of my glove, and then into my pocket. Just as I expected, the old guy’s scowl was softening.

So far, so good!

“Perhaps…”I drew three gemstones from my pocket, but kept them concealed in my fist. “Perhaps you’ll accept these as an apology?” I grasped the old man’s wrist with one hand and emptied the gemstones into his palm with the other. He still couldn’t see what he was holding, though he must’ve guessed from how they felt. Nonetheless, I couldn’t allow him to avert his gaze. I kept his eyes fixed on mine and held his wrist in a gentle embrace. You can imagine the effect it was having on him.

“Please understand, I fear this meager offering is inadequate as an apology, but it’s the best I can do.” I bit my cheek so that my eyes would well up a little.

Finally, I relaxed my hold on his wrist. The owner glanced down into his palm, then closed it approvingly over what he’d seen there.

“Well, miss. Since you put it that way, what can I say? I’ll have one of my boys in to clean up this mess. Why don’t you just head back to your room and get some rest?”

Score!

Usually, when there’s trouble like that at an inn, you get run out of town immediately. I figured that was what was going to happen, and I was okay with it. If someone asks you to leave, I advise leaving. No point in staying where you’re not wanted, right? It’s not that I learned that one the hard way, but trust me, you’d do well to take my advice. On the other hand, forking over a little, um, token—like a gemstone, perhaps—sends the message that you’re genuinely sorry. It also implies that there might be more stones where those came from, and that the innkeeper would benefit from turning a blind eye to such innocuous eccentricities. That business with the doe eyes and the soft hands doesn’t hurt either.

I bowed my head humbly several times as Gourry and I backed away in the direction of our rooms.

Speaking of Gourry, guess who was pretty annoyed with me? He shot me a disapproving look as soon as we turned the first corner. It served me right, I suppose. I hadn’t been entirely honest with him after all, had I?

You didn’t have to answer so quickly.

“You’ve got balls,” he sighed. “I’ll say that for you.”

I was leaning with my hip against the bed as Gourry spoke. “I don’t think I understand,” I said, trying to play dumb.

He wasn’t buying it.

Then I realized something. “Gourry, what are you doing in here? This is my room!”

“You promised me an explanation, didn’t you?”

“Did I?”

“You did.”

Ah. Well, okay then. I had a few questions for him as well. Might as well get them all out of the way at the same time. “Okay, fair enough. But first, I have a question for you.”

“I’m an open book, little lady. Shoot.”

Not that little lady crap again.

“Okay, sit.”

Gourry grabbed the closest chair and straddled it. “I’m sitting.”

“Now, tell me this,” I said, leaning in and staring him squarely in the eye. “How do you feel about me?”

Silence.

Gotcha.

He nearly hyperventilated.

“Gourry, I’m kidding… just kidding.”

He let out a loud sigh like he’d just been spared the torture chamber.

“Aw jeez, Lina. That was downright cruel. I thought I was going to die there for a sec—”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Men.

“Seriously, Lina, what is it you want to know? I’ll tell you anything but my measurements—those are top secret.”

Ha ha. Don’t quit your day job, funnyman.

“How’d you know those guys were coming after me?”

“I didn’t know any such thing.”

Denying it was useless. “Hey, you said it. Right before those trolls barged in, you said, ‘It looks like I’m going to see what you can do in a second.’”

“Oh, that,” he answered, unfazed. “They were obviously after someone on the inside. I just guessed they were trying to get back something that had been stolen. Call it an educated guess.”

“What made you think it was me? There were at least a dozen people—”

“Hey listen, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but it wasn’t all that tough. I figured they had to be after you because you’d stuck your nose somewhere it didn’t belong. You seem to be the type who finds trouble.”

Bull’s eye.

What was I going to do, argue? I like to think I have better judgment than most people, but he was right. I do have a kind of genius for finding trouble. Big Sis used to say the same thing about me back home.

“That sounds like a reasonable line of thought?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“Any other questions?”

“No.”

“Okay, my turn. Exactly why were those guys after you?”

I let out a sigh. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Shoot.”

So, I told him the whole sordid story about how, after I’d seen those awful bandits robbing and killing innocent villagers;

I’d set out to avenge the villagers, exterminate the bandits, and return the stolen goods (minus a small fee to cover my expenses, of course). And that was why they were after me.

What?! Did you expect me to tell Gourry I attacked them because I was bored and broke. Fat chance. Anyway, it’s not like he’d have believed me anyway. He likes me. I just told the poor guy what he wanted to hear. Really, I was doing him a favor…. Don’t look at me like that!

When I finished my monologue, Gourry nodded heavily.

“I understand completely. That sort of thing happens all too often when people try to do the right thing.”

Tee hee. Hook, line, and sinker. He was buying it. Not just going along with it, but really buying it. It looked that way, anyway.

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” I said, and then I nudged the conversation in a different direction. “There’s something else that’s bothering me, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Those guys couldn’t have seen my face before they picked me out. And yet, they were definitely after me specifically. The one guy must have been a sorcerer.”

“Bandage Man?”

“Yeah, has to be. And they must’ve been expecting to catch me by surprise. They’re hurt now, but they’ve probably only pulled back until tomorrow. I don’t think we lost them.”

“You think he used magic to find you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Magic users can do anything, huh?”

“No, not anything. There’s stuff that magic can’t do. For example, the mummy man must have put a magic mark on something before I took it. That’s probably how he tracked me. Without a beacon of some kind, even the best sorcerer can’t track people that easily.”

“Oh, I get it…” Gourry said, but he didn’t sound like he got it.

“Yep, you got it,” I played along. “Any other questions?”

“No, teacher.”

“Very funny. Then let’s wrap up this—”

Someone knocked.

We moved simultaneously to either side of the door. Gourry put his hand on the knob.

“Who is it?” I called.

“Someone who wishes to make a transaction. I will pay whatever price you name for an object that you possess,” said the voice on the other side of the door.

“You’ll pardon us if we say that sounds suspicious, won’t you?”

“Indeed. I don’t suppose that I would open the door if our roles were reversed,” responded the voice.

Uh… “So… you’re advising us not to let you in?” Why isn’t anything ever easy?

“I am merely being honest. I am also being honest when I say that I mean you no harm at this time.”

At this time? What the heck’s that supposed to mean? “So maybe you’ll change your mind after we let you in?”

“You needn’t be concerned, though I recognize that saying so may be useless. Perhaps it would be more persuasive to remind you that you do have a reliable bodyguard.”

My “bodyguard” and I looked at each other.

“Good point. All right, any funny stuff and I’m warning you, I’ll nail you with an attack spell on the spot.”

“Lina?! You’re not seriously going to let him in… ?” Gourry was flustered.

“It’ll be okay. I have a reliable bodyguard, remember?” I spoke softly and winked. I left my position by the door and walked to the center of the room.

“I’m opening the door. Come in nice and slow,” I warned. “Go ahead, Gourry. Open it.”

A moment later, Gourry did as I asked, and I got my first good look at the man who wanted to make me a deal.

A Hard Man is Good to Find

He certainly was a sight to behold. His entire body was covered in white. He wore a white mantle, a white robe, and a white hood. Everything was swathed in white, but his eyes. And there was someone with him.

“Great. It’s you.” My expression changed as I recognized the mummy man from earlier.

The pair entered the room slowly, the mummy man dragging his feet just enough to flatter me. Gourry closed the door behind them, and the mummy man’s entire body trembled as he glanced back over his shoulder.

The man in white, however, did not move a muscle.

They stopped in the very center of the room, halfway between Gourry and me.

“You two have met, then?”

“Oh yeah, we go way back. Why, just this afternoon we were painting the town red,” I said.

If such a thing is possible, the mummy blanched. The man in white lifted up a hand to keep him in his place.

“We’re always cutting up, aren’t we, my bandaged buddy?”

Guess not.

“My regrets,” said the guy in white. “This is my associate, Zolf. He is most loyal, if overzealous at times. I ask you to please forgive his actions.”

“Fine by me. I’ll just jack up the price,” I sneered. Just then, I noticed for the first time that the man in white was not entirely human. The light in the room wasn’t great, but I could still make out through his hood’s opening that the skin around his eyes was stone. I’d never seen anything like it before, and at first, I thought I was imagining it, but no… no, the guy’s face was made of stone.

Maybe he’s a golem? I considered it. But golems are created to be servile, and this dude’s eyes sparkled with the glint of free will. He was, without a doubt, his own sovereign.

“You are quite the businesswoman. Shall we commence with negotiations?”

“Sure. So, you want to buy an object…”

“I do indeed. One of the objects that you… uh… liberated from a certain band of thieves a short time ago.”

“Any object in particular?”

“I will not say.”

How’s that? I cocked an eyebrow. “You will not say?”

“I will not.”

“I believe we have hit our first bump in the road, then.”

“If I were to specify which object I desire, you might withhold that item from sale, merely out of curiosity, might you not? Here is what I propose: We agree in advance on a price for each object; then I take the one that I desire. I will pay the agreed-upon price at that time.”

“Clever. You know, I don’t remember seeing you at the bandit camp.”

“You did not. I am merely an admirer of the object in question.”

So he says.

“I had initially dispatched Zolf to search for it. He managed to infiltrate the bandit troupe and, using the tracking skills of the thieves, to locate and acquire the object. He too was intent on liberating it from the bandits at the first opportunity, but then…”

“I arrived.”

“Correct.”

“You used the bandits to do your dirty work.”

“I do not think you are in any position to judge.”

Touché. “Okay, I get the general idea. Let’s cut to the chase. The goods are: a statue, a sword, and various old coins. Certainly you’re not interested in the gemstones. They’re ordinary gemstones and not worth much, let alone ‘any price you name.’”

The man in white nodded slowly. “Correct.”

“So okay, let’s start with the blade…” I named my prices in succession.

The man in white was literally taken aback. He actually stepped backward, while the mummy man gawked with both his eyes and mouth wide open. Gourry just stared, dumbfounded (of course).

Men are really not good at this shopping thing.

He said he’d pay whatever price I named. So what’s with the shock?! I asked for a hundred times the street price, which is, granted, enough to buy about a castle and a half, but he said “whatever price you name!” If he’d meant, “whatever price you name WITHIN REASON,” he ought to have said so! Serves him right, if you ask me. Give me the chance to dream, and I’m going to dream big. That’s just the kind of gal I am.

“I came prepared to pay two or three times the street price,” the man in white spat out. “Not a hundred.”

I laughed. Because it was funny.

“This is not a game,” he said, sounding impatient.

“I suppose not. All right, just for you—bargain basement! I’ll cut my prices by half.”

“Half?!”

“Sure. Fifty-percent sale on stolen objects! Get ‘em while they’re hot, boys!” So to speak. Stolen goods. Hot. Get it?

“How dare you,” hissed the mummy man.

“Silence, Zolf!”

How dare I? It wasn’t that hard. I’m daring. It’s what I do.

“I don’t suppose you’ll accept installments, will you?” the mummy snarled under his breath.

“Not likely. I’m also not going to agree to any insulting conditions while I’m being treated like a little kid by a third-rate sorcerer who can’t tell the difference between a fireball and a lighting spell.”

“W-what?” The mummy man’s voice rose an entire octave when he realized that he’d been taken by a phony fireball. “You—! First of all…” He paused to take a deep breath before reading off the litany of my offenses, but the man in white intervened.

“Zolf! I asked you to be quiet!”

The mummy man tucked tail and whimpered at the rebuke.

“Then, as my final offer, perhaps you’ll consider joining us? In a year—no, half a year—you would be paid two, or perhaps as much as three times what you’ve asked for.”

“Hmmm,” I said, crossing my arms and scratching my chin in the universal gesture for “I’m thinking it over.”

“If I refuse your offer,” I asked at last, “you’ll declare me your enemy, won’t you?”

The man in white did not reply. He simply twitched his right eyebrow.

“I’m afraid I must decline your kind offer. I try to make a practice of avoiding your type at all costs. Call it woman’s intuition.”

“Hmph,” he hmphed.

“And intuition or not,” I said, eyes on the mummy, “I’d rather die than be associated with the likes of you.”

Zolf leaned forward and was about to say something he probably thought was both witty and vicious, but the man in white put a stop to that.

Both fear and ferocity met in the space between the man in white and me. The strength of this guy’s will was palpable. He was no ordinary being. We continued to glare at each other for several long moments.

He sighed loudly. “You are a stubborn woman. It seems our negotiations have reached an impasse.”

“That’s too bad,” I said, feigning disappointment.

“Yes. Yes it is. As agreed, I will retire for the evening. Then, as of sunrise tomorrow, I will no longer be honor-bound and will assail you with all my might. You and I will become enemies the moment you set foot outside this inn.”

I nodded almost imperceptibly to indicate my understanding.

He turned his back to me slowly. “Let’s go, Zolf.”

“B-but…”

The man continued toward the threshold, where Gourry held the door.

Zolf hesitated for a moment, then followed the man outside.

“The man in white turned to face us as he spoke. “Oh! I am called Zelgadiss.”

“I’ll remember that,” I replied, dead serious.

Gourry closed the door with a small thud. He waited until he was sure our guests were out of earshot before he finally spoke. “Did you seriously think you’d get your asking price?”

“Of course not! What did you expect me to do—sell the object to that bunch, no questions asked? Are you nuts?”

Gourry shook his head and sighed. He didn’t think I could tell, but even from across the room, I could see he was smiling.

* * *

“Funny how I never get tired of that beautiful sky.” I was lying faceup on a green field, staring up at the clear, clear blue. The sun was warm on my face; the earth was warm on my back. It felt really nice.

We’d finally reached the end of the path that cut through the forest.

The air around us was alive with the songs of birds and thick with the smell of blood.

“Yessiree. That sure is a beautiful sky”

“Hey, Lina…” came a voice from my left. He was lying face up on the field, too.

“Yes, Gourry?”

“I don’t think we should be taking it this easy. Especially while others are still fighting.”

Did I mention the heaps of berserker corpses on the ground behind Gourry and me? No? Well, there were heaps of berserker corpses on the ground behind Gourry and me.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I did fight, though… a little.” “Yeah, you did. I saw you. And I’m not begrudging you that. I’m just saying, you cast one attack spell—which was good—and then you said, ‘I’ll leave the rest to you,’ and that was it.”

“I guess it might seem like that’s what I did.”

“No, Lina, I assure you, that is what you did.” Using his sword like a cane, he rose slowly to his feet.

“I’d like to rest a little bit longer,” I said.

Gourry turned his head toward me, “We’ll be an easy target for them if we don’t get to the next town by day’s end. Get up, Lina. We’re going.”

He wasn’t being unreasonable, but I didn’t feel like tearing myself away from the clouds just yet. I was pretty exhausted from all the hard work I’d done earlier.

“Liiiinaaaa,” he crooned, like a father to his child. Hoping I’d get up and follow, he started to walk away at an unusually slow pace.

“Just five more minutes. It’s nice and warm here. It feels really good.”

“That’s enough!” he shouted and, turning, grabbed my mantle above my right shoulder, jerking me up.

“AAAHHHH!”

The pain was unbearable. My forehead struck the ground as I collapsed, clutching my right hip.

It’s an embarrassing thing to admit, but I have to confess that I’m not very good with pain. Placing my right hand over my wound and focusing my energy there, I managed to croak out a healing spell in an uneven vibrato. It felt like it took a hundred years, but finally the pain receded. A light wound would have healed very quickly, but this one? This one was probably going to take awhile.

“Lina?”

“Hmmm?” I remained as calm as I could under the circumstances. Not that I thought I was fooling anybody, but just for my own well-being.

“You’re hurt?”

I managed a small smile, making it look as feminine as I possibly could.

“It’s just gas, “ I cooed sweetly.

Gourry’s gaze dropped from my face down toward the hip

I was clutching.

“Ugh!” A sharp stab of pain made me yelp again. Gourry abruptly thrust a hand under my mantle and located my wound—it was on my right side.

The dampness he felt there made him pull back his hand in surprise and (knowing Gourry) disgust.

“You’re…” His voice was filled with alarm. “You’re bleeding!”

“Oh, I’m all right,” I said putting on a brave face. I didn’t mean it as a deception, though. The pain really was diminishing.

“You say you’re all right….”

“I am all right, Gourry, I promise. I cast a healing spell just a few minutes ago. I’ll be as good as new in a little bit….” “But—”

“Look, I’d rather have you think I’m lazy than asking me if I’m all right every ten seconds!”

“Sorry…”

“No! No, it’s okay. Just… just let me rest a little bit longer while I heal, all right?”

“Y-yeah… sure.” So Gourry sat in front of me, watching me heal. Which was just about as productive as watching water boil. I was glad he was concerned, but I don’t like people to see me when I’m weak. It makes me feel icky. And there’s nothing worse than feeling weak and icky.

“So you’ve been hurt all this time?” he asked. “You weren’t cloud-watching. You had your hands full trying to heal yourself. I’m so sorry I misunderstood….”

“I told you, Gourry, it’s okay.”

He grew silent. For a while, all we could hear was the wind. “They’re after that thing again,” I said, breaking the silence. “I looked into some stuff while I was alone last night.”

“What stuff?”

“Stuff like what kind of magical mark the mummy man could have placed on whichever object he wanted to track down.”

“Figure anything out?”

I shook my head.

“We’re talking about an Orihalcon goddess statue; a sharp, broad-bladed knife, and a bunch of collectible gold coins. None of these items has any sort of magic mark.”

“Well, what next… ?”

“I think we can rule out the coins. It seems pretty clear that he’s after one object, not a group of objects. That leaves the knife and the statue.”

“Should you be talking so much while you’re wounded?”

“What? Oh, I’m all right. I’m almost fully healed now.”

“Almost fully healed is not fully healed!”

Jeez! Thanks, dad. “I said I’m okay! So anyway, the magic that’s on the knife is probably there to keep it sharpened. It’s not a very high-quality spell. Still, it might carry the mark. On the other hand, the statue is made of Orihalcon, a rare metal that has the power to seal in magic.”

“So you can’t mark that?”

“Yes and no. If you went to the astral plane, you could track the spiritual energy the metal gives off…. Do you see where I’m going here?”

“No clue.”

“Suffice it to say, he could mark either one.”

“More important, why is he so emphatic about whatever it is he wants?”

“That’s just it! I can’t figure it out. Orihalcon is a valuable metal, and the knife’s the product of decent craftsmanship, but there’s nothing eye-popping about either object. But something is making him desperately want one of these items.”

“He said that in half a year he’d give you three times the price you demanded. So, it must be worth even more to him. Maybe the object is supposed to show him where some kind of buried treasure is hidden or something.”

I know what you’re thinking because I thought it, too. The buried-treasure concept sounds like something from a fairy tale, right? Agreed. But it also makes a lot of sense.

“You mean it might be some kind of key. That’s brilliant,” I replied.

“It is?” Gourry was the one who’d thought of it, but he didn’t seem overwhelmed with confidence in his own theory “A magic key! Yes, that could totally be it! I’ve heard of nobles using that kind of thing to safeguard their mansions. Let’s say there’s a fountain in a courtyard that opens up into a treasure vault when a certain young woman enters. In a case like that, the young woman is the key.”

“So this key… could be anything, magical or not, right?”

“Correct.”

“So, if the statue or the knife’s in the right place—”

“Something might happen. Or not.”

“I think I get the gist.”

“It’s not much of an idea, yet. However…” I rose to my feet somehow. Walking was still a bit difficult, but it wasn’t impossible.

“Whoa, there…”

“Jeez, I’m fine. I’m a little worn out, but not helpless.”

As Gourry stood, he eyed me as if I were made of glass.

“Ack!” I cried out as Gourry hoisted me in his arms. It didn’t hurt, it just startled me. “H-hey! Just what do you think you’re doing?!” My face turned the color of a poppy as he explained exactly what he thought he was doing.

“I’m going to carry you for a little while. Just until it’s easier for you to walk.”

“I’m FINE! And you’re tired, too, Gourry…”

“My grandma always made me promise to be nice to little girls,” he said with a wink.

If he’d left out the “little girl” part, I probably wouldn’t have hit him. Oh, well.

* * *

There they go again!

Footsteps. At first, I thought the floor creaking was my imagination. I was exhausted, after all. I’d lain awake most of the night, thinking things over, unable to sleep. What a lucky break that turned out to be! These footsteps weren’t being made by people who’d been out drinking and were finally dragging themselves back to their rooms. These were clearly the footsteps of people sneaking around in the middle of the night, very distinctly trying not to sound like people sneaking around in the middle of the night.

I slipped out of bed. Of course, I couldn’t be sure I was the one being snuck up on, but I figured the chances were pretty good so I might as well be prepared. The footsteps came closer.

I picked my mantle up off the floor.

What? Where did you think it would be? Don’t you know me better than that by now?!

I tucked the mantle under the bed covers, arranging it to look like a sleeping body. I made sure to move very, very quietly.

In no time at all, the footsteps stopped right outside my door. A second later, the door was kicked in and a handful of male silhouettes filed into the room. They headed straight for my bed. There was a terrific moment when they realized the lump under the covers wasn’t me. Silhouettes bumped into one another, jumped up and down, and cursed.

“Well, where the hell is she?!” one of them shouted in frustration.

“Right here, dummy!”

Did I just say that out loud? I knew the second it came out of my mouth that I’d made a big mistake.

Too late to do anything about it now, I thought as I rose to my feet. Besides, I wasn’t a complete idiot. The whole time I’d been sitting there, I’d been preparing. In fact, I’d just finished chanting my spell.

I held my hands together in front of my chest, and began, slowly, to separate my palms. A glittering ball of light appeared in the space between them. It wasn’t a lighting spell this time. This was the real deal: a fireball.

The silhouettes turned toward me, but it was too late. I tossed the fireball into the room and rushed out into the corridor, slamming the door shut behind me.

Of course I made extra sure to check the corridor for other assassins. You really don’t have faith in me, do you?

A fireball detonating behind closed doors normally has double its usual destructive force, FYI.

KA-BOOM!

It was a pretty serious explosion. My fireballs are first-rate, capable of melting steel with a direct hit.

“What the—! What was that?!” Gourry shouted as he rushed from his room. Since he was a mercenary, he and I had a lot in common. Just like me, Gourry was always armed and dressed for an emergency.

“Assassins!” That one word was enough to sum up the situation.

“Did you get ‘em?”

“Dunno!” I confessed. If the attack had come a day earlier, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But, sure enough, as soon as I’d spoken, the door of the room burst open and a flood of silhouettes poured out, accompanied by the stench of burning flesh.

“Dammit!”

Gourry drew and struck with his sword in a single motion. One of his opponents went down. Our newly visible foes were a human wielding a sword and wearing simple armor, with an army of trolls as backup. It didn’t look good.

Gourry took down his second opponent. Unfortunately, the trolls could tolerate both the burns all over their bodies and the cuts from Gourry’s sword, and still keep coming.

They didn’t even seem like average-ability trolls! These guys were polished.

His third opponent; however, was human, middle-aged, and stocky “So you’re with the girl, are you, boy?” the man said, locking swords with Gourry.

“Not bad yourself, pops?”

“That’s the product of experience.”

The two leapt back simultaneously. The first troll that Gourry had put down was getting back onto his feet. That’s regeneration for you. But it wasn’t the time to be admiring Nature’s wonders. We were in a terrible pickle.

It seemed inevitable that while Gourry and the old man were fighting, the trolls would turn their attention my way. Normally I wouldn’t be overly concerned, but right then, I didn’t have the strength to defend myself against an entire army of trolls. My magic was at its absolute weakest point.

The fight should’ve been over the moment Gourry rushed from his room. When he asked, “Did you get them?” I should have answered, “Of course,” and winked in that cute little way I do… and then we’d both have proceeded to put out the fire in my room. Cue the fat lady!

But, no. All I’d managed to do was singe their clothes and hair a bit. I didn’t have the strength to do any real magic.

Mind you, my sword skills aren’t bad at all. They might not be on Gourry’s level, but I do have confidence in my abilities… against human opponents. But, if you can’t use magic, the only way to kill a troll is to lop off its head in a single stroke.

I’d like to restate for the record that it wasn’t that I was helpless with a sword; it was just unlikely that I’d be able to separate a troll’s head from its body in one blow. I’d have to rely on Gourry to do the heavy-duty fighting while I used whatever magic I could against the enemy.

My best bet would be to trick them somehow.

The fact that the battlefield was a narrow inn corridor meant that the enemy couldn’t attack all at once. They’d have to come at us in waves.

That, at least, was the good news.

“Let’s get on with it!” hollered the old man, obviously ready to fight.

Just then, the trolls halted in their tracks. The old man suddenly seemed to be staring into space. There was no spark of life in his eyes at all. It had to be a puppetry spell.

Puppetry is not a particularly difficult technique. Trolls and other simple-minded creatures fall prey to it easily Ordinarily, a puppetry spell is used on a single opponent, allowing the sorcerer to use his or her opponent as a tool for a specified amount of time. However, using it on all the trolls and the old guy simultaneously was well beyond the capabilities of any average sorcerer. This particular practitioner had to possess great power.

“Uh, what’s with them?” Gourry inquired.

A lone priest beat me to the reply. “It is difficult to have a conversation in this inn when the other guests are causing such a ruckus,” he said.

The priest, unnoticed until now, had been standing quietly behind the trolls, near the exit. He seemed friendly enough. I couldn’t get a handle on his age. He looked both young and old at the same time, and I couldn’t see his eyes, as he kept both of them tightly shut.

Usually priests’ robes are white, possibly accented with violet or pale green, or a color associated with the primary deity in his or her congregation.

But this priest’s robes were a deep-red color. It was a blood red, or possibly poison red, I couldn’t be sure in the corridor’s dim light.

“To whom do we owe thanks for our rescue?” I asked.

“I am but another guest staying at the inn. I noticed something suspicious and decided to investigate the matter.”

“Sounds just like you, doesn’t he?” whispered Gourry. I ignored him completely. This was serious business.

“And you’ve put the rest of the guests under a sleeping spell?”

The man’s face indicated the affirmative. “What gave it away?”

“Pretty simple, really. No one’s come by to investigate all that racket we were making.”

“A crowd of curious bystanders would have made a difficult situation much worse—”

“So what’s all this got to do with you?” I interrupted.

The priest snapped his fingers. At his command, the trolls and their companion marched away in single file, as if under a sorcerer’s control.

“I have seen this group before. They are minions of Zelgadiss.”

“You know him?”

“I do,” the priest nodded. “Zelgadiss seeks an object that you possess. His purpose is to revive the Dark Lord Shabranigdu.”

Well now, this was turning out to be serious business.

“Huh? What’s Sha… Shabra-whosiwhatsit?” Gourry asked, embarrassing me horribly.

“I’ll explain later,” I replied through gritted teeth. Kids these days. Yeesh.

“Wait. You’re not kidding about this?” he asked.

“No, Gourry. Not even the tiniest bit.” I turned to the priest. “Please, go on.

“I assure you, Zelgadiss is a deadly serious concern. He is a chimera—composed of man, golem, and blow demon. He is plotting to use the immense power of the Dark Lord to rend the world asunder.”

“That’s nuts. Why would he want to do something like that?” The priest turned his head. “I do not know. I am certain only that he is, and must be, our mutual enemy.”

Uh-huh. I have a bad feeling about this.

“Our mutual enemy? Wait… when did you become his enemy?”

“I am a priest. I cannot simply stand by while someone—or something—seeks to revive the Dark Lord.”

“Okay, that makes sense…” I mused aloud and folded my arms while Gourry looked on beside me, completely lost.

“So, you want to fight him together?”

“No, I could not make such a request.” The priest shook his head, obviously flustered. I have that effect on my elders.

“It is my guess that by chance you unknowingly came into possession of the key to releasing the Dark Lord, and he has made you his enemy as a result. Am I correct in making that assumption?”

“Something like that.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you gave me the key. No further involvement would be required of you.”

“Under these circumstances, wouldn’t it be best if I just destroyed the key—”

“No! You must not!” the priest shouted, disconcerted. “That is how the Dark Lord is to be revived.”

“But, if we give you the key, you’ll have to battle him all by yourself.”

“You need not be concerned for me. Certainly he is a difficult opponent, but I Rezo the Red Priest, have no intention of being defeated by the likes of Zelgadiss.”

The Red Priest? “You mean, you’re Rezo the Red Priest?” I asked, blushing.

“That is how I am called,” he said, smiling bitterly.

Rezo the Red Priest is famous the world over not only for his simple red vestments, but also for his good deeds. He is a master of spiritual powers equal to those of the High Priest of Saillune, and one of the Five Great Sages of our age; a master not only of the White Magic associated with priests, but of Shamanic Magic and Black Magic, as well. He is known to have only two faults: He was born completely blind in both eyes, and… oh, shoot. I know there was another one… oh, that’s it! His name makes him sound like a villain. He’s so famous, every five-year-old in the world knows who he is.

I felt a tugging on my mantle from behind. It was Gourry.

“So… he’s famous?”

You bonehead. “Yes! I’ll explain later.”

I regained my composure and continued my dialogue with the celebrated priest. “If that is the case, you must allow us to do battle by your side.”

“Well…”

“C’mon! After hearing all that, I can’t just say, ‘Sure, here you go. Good luck fighting the big, bad demons,’ now can I?”

“I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I assure you…”

“No, no, no! It’s not that I doubt your abilities—that’s not it at all. But, if the Dark Lord is revived, no one will be safe. I realize my powers are nowhere equal to your own, but surely I c an assist Your Holiness in fulfilling your mission.”

The priest’s expression showed concern. “But…”

“Now, don’t go worrying about us either! I’m a pretty top-notch sorceress, and Gourry here’s a damn good swordsman. We won’t slow you down.”

The priest sighed heavily. “Very well, then. It seems I cannot turn away one so determined to serve the greater good.”

“Yes!”

“When the time comes, we shall go into battle together.”

“Right on!”

Gourry tugged on my mantle from behind repeatedly. I ignored him.

“In the meantime, I will safeguard the key,” said the priest.

Nuh-uh, you won’t. I shook my head.

The priest was visibly perturbed.

“They don t know we’ve joined forces. With all due respect, I think it’s best for Gourry and I to draw the enemy off while you support us from the shadows… Your Holiness.”

“But… that strategy puts you in great danger. I should be the decoy.”

“Noooo, if you have the key, they’ll know we’ve made contact. If they know that, then our plan will be exposed, and having a decoy will be pointless.”

“That may be the case, but…”

“Your Holiness, that is the case. Please trust me.”

I would understand if you started to think something fishy was going on about now Gourry sure seemed like he thought so.

“Very well! I will leave the key in your hands for the time being.” That said, the priest walked toward my room.

What the… ?!

He withdrew a small ball from his pocket and tossed it inside the open doorway. Then, he quietly chanted a spell. It seemed like a resurrection spell, but slightly different. Then, just as soon as he had started to chant, he stopped. I wasn’t even sure he had finished.

“I will return to my own room. As agreed, I will assist you from the shadows from tomorrow forward. Sleep well.” He started walking off before he’d even finished speaking.

“Well, your room looks totally normal.” Gourry said, as he peeked his head inside. “What on earth did he do?”

“Let me see…” I peeked into the room as well.

Wow! I was completely speechless.

As Gourry said, the room looked totally normal. Right down to the unmade bed and the cheap white curtains. Everything was exactly the same as it was before I tossed my fireball.

If the room had stayed crispy, I was in for a nasty lecture from the innkeeper the next morning. I hadn’t considered what I was going to do about that, but now I wouldn’t have to. Rezo the Red Priest had restored my room to its pre-firebomb condition. Thanks, Rezo!

“He’s good.” I whistled appreciately.

“Oh yeah? What’s so good about him?”

“Let’s save it for tomorrow. Right now, I need some shut-eye. I can’t be fighting bad guys without my beauty sleep.” As I spoke, I closed the door to my room and entered Gourry’s, curling up in a corner.

“Um… excuse me there, little lady.” Gourry called out to me. “You’re in my room…”

“I know.” I explained it as simply as I could: “If I go back to my room, there might be another attack.”

“How would being in my room—?”

“Two people are more reassuring than one.”

“Got it. You sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I can’t do that. I’m imposing as it is.”

“… Fine, fine.”

Knowing he couldn’t sway me, Gourry lay down in a corner on the opposite end of the room.

“Er… why don’t you sleep in the bed?” I was the one asking this time.

“A man can’t sleep in a bed while a girl’s sleeping on the floor,” he announced. Clearly, this was the obvious truth.

I managed a strained smile.

“Well, suit yourself… good night, Gourry.”

“Night-night, little lady.”

Sigh. He really is a good guy. I just wish he wouldn’t treat me so much like a kid.

* * *

“So, you really don’t know anything about Ruby Eye Shabra-nigdu, the Dark Lord?” I asked him as we walked shoulder-to-shoulder down a sunlit path. The bit of forest around us looked exactly like the one we’d just hiked a few days before. Seeing the same trees over and over and over again was getting on my nerves. And since the road cut through the Great Kresaus Forest all the way to Atlas City, of course that meant we would be seeing a lot more of the same trees before we actually arrived in town. Oh, goody.

“Hmmm…” mumbled Gourry, trying to recall. “Nope, not a thing.”

The legend of Shabranigdu is downright famous, and not just among sorcerers, either! Everybody knows the story. Everybody except Gourry, apparently.

I let out a loud sigh. “All right. I’m only going to tell the story once, so listen carefully.”

“Listening.”

I sighed again, and doubted that Gourry was even capable of understanding the philosophical weight of what he was about to hear. I guessed not, but I went on with the story anyway, figuring that as long as we were stuck walking through monotonous rows of trees, I might as well make an effort to entertain myself.

“The universe comprises more worlds than just the one in which we live. A very, very long time ago, a countless number of staves were thrust up into the Sea of Chaos and around each stave there formed a world, both flat and round. Imagine the earth as a pie with a stick thrust into it from below. Like that! And one of those worlds is the one we’re living in right here and now.”

I pointed at the ground, just in case “here and now” was a tough concept for Gourry to grasp. While this theory represents the prevailing view among sorcerers even today, I was conveying it in a nontraditional way. If I hadn’t, I’m certain it would have flown in one blond-curl-covered ear and right out the other.

“In ancient times, across the many worlds, a great war waged between two great races. One was the Gods, the other the Demon race, Mazoku. The Gods were protectors of the worlds, while the Demons sought to destroy the worlds by seizing the staves on which they were supported.” Lina proceeded, with a deep breath, “On some worlds, the Gods would win—bringing peace. On other worlds, the Demons would win—and the worlds would be destroyed. This war continues to this day, on some of those worlds.

“On our world,” resumed Lina, “the Dark Lord Ruby Eye Shabranigdu; and the God, Flare Dragon Ceipheed, who is also known as the Dragon God, fought for domination. Their battle continued for thousands of years, until finally, the Dragon God split the Dark Lord’s body into seven pieces and sealed up each piece separately across the world.”

“So the Gods won?” Gourry guessed.

I shook my head. “All the Dragon God did was seal the remnants of the Dark Lord. He didn’t destroy them.”

“But still, the Mazoku’s body was cut into pieces, right?”

“That’s not enough to kill a Dark Lord. Anyway, once the remnants of the Dark Lord were sealed, the Dragon God sank into the Sea of Chaos, his power exhausted.”

“He needed a nap… ?”

“It wasn’t a nap! Fearing the eventual revival of the Dark Lord, the Dragon God used the last of his power to divide himself into four different dragon lords, each occupying their respective elements of earth, air, fire, and water. These various dragon lords would protect the four cardinal points—east, west, north, and south. It’s said that division took place about five thousand years ago.

“About one thousand years ago, the Dragon God’s fear was realized. One of the seven pieces of Shabranigdu was restored by a human whose mind and body had been taken over by the Dark Lord in an effort to revive himself.

“When the Dark Lord invaded the north, fighting through the water dragon lord’s well-prepared traps, he prevailed, destroying the water dragon lord in the process. However, his own body became bound to the earth as a result, and he was no longer able to move.”

“Well that didn’t get either of them anywhere,” interjected Gourry.

“It happened because they were practically equal in power,” I explained. “Anyway, that effort destroyed the balance that kept peace in the world, which is what, in turn, made the dark creatures appear.”

“Huh, no kidding?” Gourry seemed pretty impressed. “Well,” I clarified, “whether the myth about the origin of the world is literally true or false, something named Shabranigdu, calling itself the Dark Lord and possessing immense power, existed in this area oh-so-many years ago. And something else had similarly existed in the lands to the north.”

“So…” Gourry paused, putting the pieces together. “That Zel-what’s-his-name guy in white wants to put the seven pieces together and bring this Dark Lord back again?”

“Precisely Assuming what Rezo the Red Priest said is true, that is.”

“Now that you mention it,” Gourry said in a voice approximating a whisper. (I do pride myself on having excellent hearing, remember.) “You spoke pretty highly of that Rezo guy to his face,” he noted, “but I didn’t get the impression you trusted him.”

Bingo, Gourry.

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I suppose…” I spoke in a low voice as well. “How do we know this guy is the real Rezo? Rezo is a living legend, but no one’s reported seeing him in person for at least a decade.”

“So you think one of the bad guys might be calling himself Rezo, just to get close to us?”

“Could be.”

“How do you know I am who I say I am, Lina? You seem to trust me.”

“You think I trust you?” I teased.

“Hey, that’s harsh!” Gourry complained.

“I’m kidding. You don’t look like a guy with ulterior motives.”

“Thanks, little lady,” Gourry said like he was patting a puppy on its head.

Way to ruin a moment, pal. Again!! “Gourry, you really have to stop treating me like I’m a kid,” I pleaded. Honestly, my biggest fear was that I was actually starting to get used to it!

“You keep saying that, but how old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty-five.”

Gourry turned beet red.

“I’m kidding! I’m actually fifteen.”

“Whew, you almost gave me a heart attack there. Ah, so you’re fifteen. You are still a kid, see?”

“What?! Well, I’m… I’m not exactly an adult, but I’m not a little kid, either.”

“Tough age to be, huh?”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean? Look, just… whatever. Let’s forget about it, all right?”

I took a deep breath and tried to return my voice to something resembling a normal tone. “I’m not going to be able to use magic for the next few days. So, you’re going to have to do most of the fighting in the meantime, okay? I’ll help out however I can.”

“You can’t use magic?” He was caught off guard, for sure, but he wasn’t as shocked as I was expecting.

I nodded slowly.

“Oh…” Gourry said, deep in thought. “That time of the month?”

“Gourry!” I was blushing deeply.

“What?” He looked me right in the eyes and repeated, “Well? Is it?”

I averted my gaze. “What do you know about ‘that time of the month’?”

As hard as it is to imagine, women with powers have an even worse time during their period than those who don’t. For two or three days during that time, the powers of sorceresses, priestesses, and shrine maidens weaken to the point where they’re unable to use magic effectively. FYI: The old wives’ tale claiming that a sorceress, who loses her virginity during her period, will become an ordinary, non-magical woman is a myth. My real problem was much simpler, though: My magic powers would remain very low for the next day or so; there-fore, if we were attacked, which we most certainly would be…

Oh, never mind all that. My real problem was how to get over the fact that Gourry, who seemed to have the strength of an ogre and the intellect of a jellyfish (I think that’s a fair assessment), figured out that “I can’t use magic” meant “It’s that time of the month”!

“It’s not a big deal,” he said. Of course it wasn’t a big deal— to him! It was a huge, embarrassing deal to me.

“When I was a kid, about five years old or so,” he went on, “there was this old fortuneteller woman who lived near us. She closed her shop for a few days every month like clockwork. When I asked her why, she smiled and said, ‘It’s that time of the month.’ I figured out that women can’t use magic during that time of the month, but I’ve never really been clear on how exactly they know when it’s the right time of the month to be that time of the month. So what’s the story, Lina? Can you explain it to me?”

Unbelievable! Clearly, I’d been wrong about all that “nice guy” nonsense. Gourry was obviously a horrible cretin who got his jollies by making fun of vulnerable young women. Jerk!

“Whoops! Enough playtime.” Gourry’s demeanor abruptly turned serious. “Looks like we have a problem, little lady”

I stopped walking. Dense forest covered our right flank. There was a large clearing to our left. Directly in front of us, however, stood a man resolutely blocking our way. He wore an overcoat and appeared to be around twenty-two. He was also fairly good-looking, if you happen to have a thing for guys with dark-blue stony skin and silvery, metallic hair. (You never know, you might.) He held a broadsword in both hands.

I realized then who he was.

“So, Mr. Zeligaldiss” Gourry spoke first. The big boss finally shows his face….”

Um. Gourry… ? “I think it’s Zelgedes, isn’t it?”

“ZELGADISS!” the man shouted, obviously annoyed.

Don’t you hate it when people get your name wrong? You’d be shocked to hear the many ways that people can screw up ‘Lina Inverse.’ Seriously, the mind reels.

Gourry said nothing.

I said nothing.

Zelgadiss heard us say nothing and said nothing in reply.

The tension hung in the air, thick as gravy. Lumpy, disagreeable gravy.

Someone had to say something! “That’s what I said!” I blurted out. “Zelgadiss!”

“M-me too…” added Gourry, unconvincingly.

My name is not important,” Zelgadiss shouted back. I wasn’t buying it. He seemed pretty pissed. “I have come for the object. If you still refuse to listen to reason, you will leave me no choice but to take it by force. Choose carefully, Miss Sophia.”

Who…?

Gourry and I each looked around and over our shoulder, just in case Miss Sophia was hiding behind a bush.

“Ooooh!” We both figured it out at the same time. There was no Miss Sophia. That was the name I’d given to Zolf, the mummy fellow, that night at the inn. He must have thought I’d given him my actual name, which he then gave his boss. Dumb as he looks, that guy.

“I’m called Lina!“ I shouted.

“What?” Zelgadiss’ voice was sounding progressively more distraught.

“Liinaa! Sophia was an alias I gave to that Zolf guy,” I explained.

Zelgadiss didn’t react at all. We’d succeeded in our strategy of throwing our opponent off balance using only the weapon of incredibly boring repartee. Cool.

Oh, you laugh, but every good warrior knows half the battle is fought in the mind. It’s a fact. You can look it up.

“Who cares what your name is?” a second voice queried. Whoever the speaker was, he was right behind us. I turned around very slowly and found myself face-to-body hair with… a werewolf!

Or… possibly not a werewolf. He might have been half wolf and half troll; it was tough to tell. Anyway, if the term werewolf didn’t technically apply, then try beast man. Or, dork, though that’s not a technical term, strictly speaking. Regardless, the dude had the head of a wolf and the body of a man. He carried a large scimitar over his shoulder, and he was wearing a really dweeby-looking suit of leather armor. Heh, heh.

“So boss, we just need the goddess statue and that’s it, right?” asked the were-dweeb.

“Dilgear!” Zelgadiss snapped.

Uh oh, you’ve done it now, Dilgear.

Dilgear the dork-wolf took a moment to put together just exactly how he’d screwed up. “Oh… oops! Sorry, boss. We were supposed to call it ‘the object’ around them, huh? Well, it don’t really matter, since I was figuring on killing them anyways.”

I took a step forward, insulted. “Uh, excuse me!” I shouted. “We can hear you, you know. And frankly, I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with. You’re not even in my league, Fido.”

Dilgear narrowed his eyes in my direction.

“You have an awfully big mouth for such a little lady,” he harked. “Let’s see what’cha got!”

“Fine. But a two-on-two fight’s not going to be interesting enough for us with you clowns,” I said, “One-on-two’s plenty for the likes of you. Go ahead, Gourry—get ‘em!”

“What?!” He looked at me like I’d signed him up for suicide duty, which, if you ask me was seriously overestimating Dilgear’s abilities. “W-wait just a second, little lady!”

Dammit, Gourry! I told you you’d have to do the fighting….

“What’s this one-on-two nonsense, anyway?” a third voice piped up. This time it was a voice I’d heard before. “Are you trying to leave me out of the fun?”

I knew it!

The old man, who’d attacked my room with trolls the previous night, appeared and stood beside Zelgadiss. This time he was equipped with a formidable halberd. It was so impressive, in fact, that I found myself wondering just where he did his halberd shopping. I decided, sadly, that would be too weird a thing to ask on the battlefield.

“Hey, three against one isn’t fair!” I exclaimed instead.

“Yeah!” added Gourry, witty as usual.

“I don’t know what you did to us last night, but I’m pretty sure it won’t work today,” said the old man.

He was right. We were at a serious disadvantage. Our chances for escape, let alone victory, were looking pretty slim. I had to think of something.

“Enough waiting! Let’s go!” Zelgadiss moved. Thrusting his right hand out in front of him, he formed a dozen or so Flare Arrows out of the ether.

Flare Arrows! Damn.

Gourry and I leapt for cover, but a moment later the Flare Arrows were striking and exploding between us, filling the air with fire and smoke. We lost sight of each other.

Oh, crap. We’re separated. Not good…

Across the flames, I could hear the high-pitched screech of clashing metal. I figured it was Gourry crossing blades with the enemy. I figured one of the swords for Gourry, but I couldn’t make out his opponent through the haze.

“Gourry!” I yelled in the direction where I heard the sc reeching sound. I caught the glint of someone’s sword. Something whizzed by and barely missed me.

“Ah!” I leapt and drew the sword from my hip.

“Let us see—” In the midst of the weakening flames, a form was becoming visible before me.”—how good you really are!”

“Zelgadiss!”

“Haa!” Zelgadiss slashed. I parried.

“Gii!” I couldn’t see. I lost my balance and nearly dropped my blade.

Zelgadiss was a real pro. His every blow displayed ample speed and power. My strength wasn’t going to hold up against him for long.

Right now; there is no way I can beat him.

I figured I had no choice but to run. I spun around and sprinted into the woods. Zelgadiss would follow me for sure. I planned to lose him in the forest, then get back to the action and support Gourry. That was Plan A, anyway. Too bad there wasn’t a Plan B.

Zelgadiss did pursue me into the forest. That much went as I’d hoped. But once in the forest, he overtook me in an instant. Less than a second inside the trees, I felt a knee hit me hard in the gut.

The counter I attempted with my sword was laughable; I swung and hit nothing but air.

My back slammed into a tree. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to,” I stopped for a moment to cough up blood, before continuing, “hit girls?” I was down, but not out.

Okay, I was very nearly out. But I was holding on for the time being, trying to get a fix on the direction of my enemy.

“If you’d handed the object over when I requested it, I wouldn’t have had to resort to this nastiness!” he sneered.

His voice gave me a fix on his general location, if not his exact position. I ran in the opposite direction. Zelgadiss pursued.

“Light!” I shouted, lobbing a feeble sphere in his direction. For no other reason than dumb luck, I scored a direct hit.

“Guaahh!” he shrieked. It wasn’t nearly enough to beat him, but it did distract him for a moment.

In my condition, I could manage a lighting spell, but a fireball was out of the question.

I fled, tucked tail, and ran like my life depended on it, because, well, my life depended on it. I didn’t even entertain the notion of mounting a counterattack. I doubted my sword could penetrate stone skin, anyway.

I sped through the woods to the shore of a small lake. I was trapped and exposed. In a panic, I turned back toward the shelter of the forest.

Zelgadiss stood between safety and me.

There was nowhere else to go. I began running along the shore.

“You won’t escape!” he taunted, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him toss something at me.

I tried moving to my left without turning around. But… I couldn’t. Looking back, I saw the metal blade that Zelgadiss had tossed: pinned to the ground, straight through my shadow.

A Shadow Bind! It was a simple but effective technique used to bind an opponent’s movements from the astral plane.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no!

I tugged at the blade, but it wouldn’t budge. Think, Lina. Think!

I know! I chanted a lighting spell and suspended the sphere directly over the shadow Once I’d eliminated my shadow, my body could move freely again!

Too late! I turned to find myself face-to-face with Zelgadiss.

#slayers novels #submission

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