Slayers

Vol. 1: The Ruby Eye

Written by Hajime Kanzaka

Slayers vol.1: The Ruby Eye

Translation - Jeremiah Bourque

English Adaptation - Kelly Sue DeConnick

Copy Editor - Amy Spitalnick

Design and Layout - James Lee

Cover Design - Harlan Harris

Editor - Nicole Monastirsky

Digital Imaging Manager - Chris Buford

Pre-Press Manager - Antonio DePietro

Production Managers - Jennifer Miller and Mutsumi Miyazaki

Art Director - Matt Alford

Managing Editor - Jill Freshney

VP of Production - Ron Klamert

President and C.0.0. - John Parker

Publisher and C.E.O. - Stuart Levy

A TOKYOPOP NOVEL

TOKYOPOP Inc. 5900

Contents

Beware of Bandits That Go Grump in the Night

A Hard Man is Good to Find

Caught Between a Rock and a Red Priest

Oh, It’s on Now!

Epilogue

Afterword

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.”

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.

Caught Between a Rock and a Red Priest

I awoke in what, judging by the colorful smashed glass and statuary, must have been an abandoned church. It was filthy, and it smelled bad. Hanging by bound hands from a ceiling hook in an unfamiliar (and stinky) environment, with a throbbing headache and my enemy staring me down? Not my favorite way to greet the day. It beat not waking up at all, I guess, but just barely.

Of course, the headache wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was somewhere in the vicinity of my wounded pride—that stung horribly.

Zelgadiss stood with his arms folded, sizing me up for something awful, I was certain. Zolf, the mummy man, was there too—along with poor, pathetic Dilgear the dork-wolf and a guy I hadn’t seen before… who was a fish. No, seriously, he was a fish.

You know those things that live in the water? A fish. Fish plus guy equals fishguy. And fishguy made Dilgear look downright handsome by comparison.

Ever run into fish people before? No? Okay, there are essentially two families: Lagon and Gillman. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what distinguishes one family from the other, but I do know that most of the fish people you run into are humanoid with scales, and a fair number of them have fins. They’re also a foul-tempered bunch. But I suppose I’d be nasty, too, if I smelled like a fish. (Oh hey, I think I just figured out where that stink in the church was coming from.)

Now, this particular fishguy was more fish than guy. His body was thin and long. He had two huge fish eyes on either side of his head, which really was not so much a head as an extension of his body, since he hadn’t gone to the trouble of growing a neck. He looked like a flounder with arms and legs. How would you like to wake up to that? At least I didn’t see the old guy around anywhere.

“Not so quick with a quip, now are you?” asked Zelgadiss. It was a rhetorical question.

I hate you, you horrible bastard. Does that count as a quip?

“You should thank Zolf. He’s the one who spared your life. Or, rather, he was the one who most desperately wanted to kill you but fought valiantly to contain his passions.”

“Thanks, Zolf. I owe you one.” I would’ve winked but my face hurt. I managed a smile. Kind of.

“Watch your mouth, you little—!” That was Zolf.

“Little what? C’mon Zolf, take your best shot.”

“Too bad about your boyfriend running off and abandoning you,” said Dilgear, obviously trying to help his buddy out.

“Yeah… too bad,” I replied. My boyfriend?

Zelgadiss sighed and said, “I wouldn’t have thought you’d trust your companion with the object. As it turns out, it’s good for you that you did. We’ll have to keep you alive as bait.”

“Uh, we’ll have to what?” Dilgear blubbered.

“This girl does not have the object.”

“What?” Everyone gasped all at once—everyone, that is, except Zelgadiss and me.

“How can you tell?”

Zelgadiss turned and looked at Dilgear like he was an idiot. Because, well… he was an idiot. “Do you see the statue anywhere, Dilgear?”

Now, don’t get any funny ideas. It’s not like I was hanging there naked: I was wearing what I normally wear, minus the sword and mantle. I couldn’t hide a statue without looking like I had at least a sandwich under there.

Dilgear walked around me, looking over my body. Ew.

“Huh. Maybe she swallowed it?” He smiled an idiotic smile. Because, well… he was idiotic.

“I was unable to detect the Orihalcon on him during battle. How did you manage to shield that?” Zelgadiss queried.

“I stuck a protection spell on it.”

“Protection spell?”

“It cancels out search spells. The statue can’t be detected, even from the astral plane.”

“Kudos. Well done.” Zelgadiss sounded impressed.

“Thanks.”

What did he expect? Jeez. These people have no faith in me.

“You didn’t use anything that impressive during our battle.”

“I was holding back.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“You’re not a fool. Do you expect me to… ?” Then he figured it out. “Oh, I see. That time of the month, then?”

“Piss off!” I reddened. Am I wearing a sign that says, “I’m on my period. Please let’s discuss”?

“Well, in any case, we’ll need to keep you alive until your companion turns up,” he said. “Zolf, do what you like with her, but don’t kill her.”

Do what you like with her?

Zolf smiled. My stomach turned.

Oh this is just great…

“Sweetheart,” Zolf cooed in a voice that gave my goose bumps goose bumps. “I believe we have established that you owe me your life, and I intend to be repaid. Now, where shall we begin, hmmm… ?” He eyed me up and down.

Oh, good. He’s a psychopath. What exactly did I do to deserve an invitation to this party… ?

“Mr. Zolf… sir?”

“Yes?” he purred, pleased with my newfound respect.

I looked at him rather meekly and whispered, “I just… I just want to—”

“If you want to beg for forgiveness, save it.”

“It’s not that,” I said, lowering my voice even more. “I just want to say that I think you’re…”

“What? Speak up!”

“I’m embarrassed,” I whispered. “I’m young and not very experienced with men. I just want to say that I think you’re… “

“What? You think I’m what? Handsome?” he leaned in closer to hear me.

“Third-rate.“ I said, in a voice as clear as church bells. Gotcha. Sucker.

The room exploded with laughter. Everyone except Zolf was howling. Zelgadiss tried to hide his mirth by shielding his mouth with his fist, but his quivering shoulders gave him away. What can I say? I’m a funny girl.

I wasn’t laughing at my own joke in part because, well, that’s just tacky. But also because—zinger or no zinger—I was tied up, and Zolf still had the upper hand. I expected him to explode, but he just glared, which was worse.

Well, that’s terrifying.

There was a long uncomfortable pause after the laughter died down. Finally, Zolf smiled. “Dilgear…” he called to the wolf/troll/ man/ thug.

“Yeah, Zolf?” Dilgear answered.

“Kiss her.”

“WHAAAAA ?!”

Everyone turned to see where the scream came from. It came from Dilgear. The wolf… thing was apparently more grossed out at the prospect of sucking face than I was.

Now that’s not exactly the kind of ego boost a girl needs.

“Please tell me you’re kidding?” He sounded like he might puke.

“What? Do I ever kid? I’m serious,” Zolf answered, annoyed.

“But… she’s human! And she’s plain! And she’s a kid, Zolf. She’s not… developed, you know what I’m saying? I mean, I like women-women, you know? Like, maybe a hot little cyclops, or… oh! do you remember that goblin chick we met that one time? Remember her? Now, that was a woman. I mean she had a set, right? Not like—”

Oh, just kill me.

“Zolf,” Zelgadiss spoke. “Dilgear would prefer not to assist you with this particular task.”

A human male would’ve had the same reaction if asked to kiss a wolf chick, right? I mean, unless he were weird and into body hair or whatever. I mean, it’s not me being rejected here, it’s my genus. It’s not my fault he’s not attracted to women outside his species. Wait, goblins are outside his species…

“Hmph, Nunsa then!” Zolf was pointing at the fishguy. “You kiss her!”

“Me?” he asked. It’s a very weird thing to see a fish talk.

“Kiss her!”

“You wish for me to engage the human girl romantically?”

“Yes, kiss her! What else would you—never mind, I don’t want to know. Just kiss her!”

The fish fellow’s lack of enthusiasm was frustrating Zolf as much as it was hurting my feelings.

“Very well.”

“Wait—no!” This time I was doing the screaming. I would rather have gnawed my arm off at the shoulder than shake the fishguy’s hand. Kiss him? It was too horrible to contemplate.

“Yes! Do it! Lay one on her. Lock those fish lips on her like she’s bait, my good man!” Zolf was a one-man cheerleading squad.

Nunsa’s webbed feet made wet, slurping noises as he approached.

“No! Stay away from me! Stop it!”

“You are a very lucky human girl,” Nunsa assured me. “I am the most popular potential mate in my school. The smartest, the handsomest…” His fish whiskers wiggled.

“Oh, my god! Seriously? Where do you go to school?”

“Cry! Whimper! Beg me for mercy! Suffer as I have suffered!” Zolf certainly was enjoying himself.

Oh god…

Nunsa moved in close, “Now then…” His voice took on a peculiar tone. I was too horrified to reply. “Let us begin.”

No one understood exactly what Nunsa meant. Or, considering the nauseating possibilities, particularly wanted to.

“Is there a problem?” the fish man questioned the delay

“Um…” Dilgear wondered aloud, “Nunsa, what do you mean?”

Fishguy turned one eye and looked at the wolf.

“I am waiting for the eggs,” he said, as though that would make sense to anyone.

“I believe,” Zelgadiss theorized, “something about the word ‘kiss’ may have gotten lost in translation.”

I’d come to the same conclusion as Zelgadiss, which just added insult to injury.

Zolf looked completely lost.

“Nunsa, how do your people mate?” Zelgadiss inquired.

“Females lay eggs. Males fertilize the eggs. Then, some fifteen days later, there are babies.”

Figures. Their females don’t want to touch them either.

“Oh.” Zolf seemed disappointed. “You couldn’t have said something before?”

“Said something about what?” asked a bewildered Nunsa.

“Oh, never mind, ‘‘ Zolf said in an attempt to drop the subject.

“Zolf, I have an idea,” declared Dilgear.

Oh, this’ll be good.

“Get Rodimus. He’s a human, like her.”

“First of all, that’s not going to be as punishingly awful, now is it? Secondly, Rodimus thinks he’s a knight. He won’t mistreat a girl merely at my request. You know, chivalry and all that rot,” said Zelgadiss in opposition to Dilgear’s suggestion.

This Rodimus has to be the old guy.

“The girl is responsible for my condition. I will have vengeance,” whined Zolf.

“Maybe it’s time to let it go, Zolf?” prodded Zelgadiss.

“No, not yet.” His gaze drifted to Zelgadiss.

“Zolf,” Zelgadiss put an end to the discussion. “I have no interest in making little girls cry.”

“I know, but…” Zolf was nearly in tears. I actually started to feel bad for him.

Hey, don’t cry! It’s going to be all right. You’ll heal up! And how many times do I have to keep telling you people, I’m not a little kid!

“I have no choice…” It looked as if Zolf finally got the hint.

“… I’ll have to handle this myself,” Zolf concluded. I guess he didn’t get the hint.

“Now, then…” Zolf reached into his pocket and brought forth a giant handkerchief.

“W-what’s that for?” I freaked.

Zolf walked around behind me, where I couldn’t see.

“It’s for little girls who don’t know when to shut up!” he said, as he reached around and stuffed the handkerchief into my mouth.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed, walking around to face me again. “Don’t have much to say now, do you?”

“Well then,” Zolf stretched his mouth into an unpleasant smile and began, “You are a runt.“

“Mmrmfph!”

“And a cow.“

“Mmmrugmf!”“

“You are a flat-chested runt cow… who is narcissistic.” He was having fun now, enunciating every epithet as though it tasted sweet on his tongue. “You are a shrew. Your eyes are too big for your face and it makes you look funny.” He went on, and on.

How dare he! If I didn’t have a tablecloth shoved in my mouth, I’d bury him! What’s not to insult? For starters, he’s a big old freak who can’t let go of a grudge. Besides the mummy business (and god only knows what’s under those bandages!)—he’s got teeny-tiny feet and he’s all bowlegged! Where does he get off insulting my proportions?!

“I believe you’ve just about covered it,” Zelgadiss said, sounding bored. “How much longer do you insist on prolonging this childish nonsense?”

“Until I feel revenged.” Zolf’s face reddened.

“Mmrpf! Mmmrumpfer! Mfumpfuu, muumrufferffuffer!” I couldn’t take it any longer. I was trying to tell him that I was going to kill him as soon as I had the chance, but all I managed to get out against the gag was, “Mmrpf!”

“How does it feel, being helpless?! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

One day, I will feed you those words.

Eventually, Zolf wore himself out, and he and the others went to find food and make arrangements for the night. The sun made its way across the sky until all that was left was a single ray of light colored bright orange by the remaining bits of window it passed through. Then that light faded, cloaking me in darkness, save for the faintest glimmers of starlight. My wrists hurt, my jaw hurt, and I was very, very tired. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep.

I awoke with a start, to the sound of someone entering the room.

“Be quiet…” Zelgadiss whispered.

Why would Zelgadiss be sneaking around in here? Isn’t he in charge… ? I still had a gag in my mouth so I pretty much had to be quiet. I waited, not understanding.

A white light flashed above me and I fell to the floor. Ouch.

“Your sword and mantle.”

“Eh?” Zelgadiss pulled the cloth from my mouth. No mistake—those were my things. “Why?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Do you wish to escape, or not?”

I nodded silently and took my gear.

“Follow me.”

I followed behind Zelgadiss, as quietly as possible. It occurred to me that this might be a trap, but even a trap was better than being suspended from that ceiling another night at the mercy of Zolf.

Outside, patches of moonlight illuminated a thick, dark forest beside the dilapidated structure. A stone path led from the church into the woods.

“Hurry!” Zelgadiss said.

“Wait…” I hesitated.

This was a little too convenient. I’ve always been a firm believer in the adage, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”

“The situation’s changed,” he shot back urgently. “We have to go now!”

“All right.” I made the decision to trust him for the time being. We ran along the path into the forest. Then… we stopped.

Something crimson emerged from the darkness to block the forest path. From behind, I heard Zelgadiss mutter under his breath, “Rezo.”

The Red Priest stood before us.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Zelgadiss?” Rezo asked. “You’ve followed orders admirably up until now… but this? This is an act of treason.”

“Then I am a traitor!” Zelgadiss yelled. His voice was desperate. He was clearly afraid.

“I cannot do this any more!”

“Oh, is that so?” Rezo asked quietly. “I’m very sorry to hear That.” He seemed an entirely different person than he was at our first meeting. And I couldn’t read his thoughts at all.

“You’re turning against me, then? Have you forgotten that I made you? I blessed you with your power…”

He wha—huh?

“Blessed me?” Zelgadiss broke in. “I will admit, Lord Rezo, that I wanted power. But I never asked to become a chimera! I never wanted… this“

“One has to be willing to make sacrifices, pet. And I gave you what you asked for, in the most direct way possible. If you had something else in mind, you ought to have specified. In any case, I won’t tolerate impudence. This ends here.”

Zelgadiss grunted. He moved suddenly, circling behind me and grabbing hold.

“Hey! W-what the—?” We began to move forward like that.

Rezo grinned, amused. “Do you intend to use that girl as a shield? Fool, do you presume I have guilt about going through her to get to you?”

“No, I don’t!” Zelgadiss’ voice was quivering now. He compensated for the fear it betrayed by raising the volume. Right in my ear.

“Using the girl as a shield won’t help me much, which is why I’m not making her my shield.…”

He raised my body high in the air. Oh, no—he wouldn’t!

“Yaaaah!”

“… I’m making her my arrow!“

He did!

Zelgadiss launched my body toward Rezo the same way you’d hurl a ball in shot put! Even as I sped through the air toward certain injury, I had to hand it to him: It was an impressive strategy.

Rezo was surprised, of course, but he managed to sidestep the assault, which left me fast approaching lip-lock with a tree. It looked like I was going to get a kiss after all.

I flailed my limbs in midair in a vain attempt to alter my direction, or slow myself down… or something. It didn’t do much.

I hit the tree with an audible splat, my limbs flailing around, grabbing the tree like a cornered money.

Ow. My nose!

“Mom always said I’d wind up a worthless tree-hugger.” Even dizzy with pain, I could try to be a good one.

“We don’t have time for jokes!” Zelgadiss caught up and managed to get me down from the tree. With a flying sorceress as a distraction, he’d been able to blast past Rezo unharmed.

Just then, several fireballs detonated behind us. “Those should buy us enough time to lose him.”

“Gently!” I shrieked, as Zelgadiss heaved me over his shoulder and sprinted.

“Complain later!” he shot back, scattering still more fireballs and taking us straight into the darkness.

* * *

“I think we’ve lost him,” Zelgadiss sighed, letting himself breathe at last. We’d been running for most of the night and had finally come to rest near a waterfall inside the forest. The roar of the falls camouflaged our voices, allowing us to speak without worrying about being heard. I had to hand it to Zelgadiss—the guy had formidable energy reserves. He’d spent the bulk of the last several hours running while carrying me. All I’d done was feel my wrists ache and my nose throb.

Shortly, the sun would threaten to make its way over the horizon.

“My nose hurts,” I whined.

“Well then, quit picking at it,” he said.

“Not funny.” I stuck my tongue out at him and leaned back against the river rocks. The cool stones felt good. As fighters go, my size gives me better-than-average speed and explosiveness, but that’s offset by my lack of strength and endurance. I needed some sleep… badly. But morning was coming soon, and there wasn’t any time.

“Go ahead,” Zelgadiss said, watching my eyes droop. “We’re safe here, and we could both use a little rest. I’ll close my eyes, too.” Perfect!

“You’d be ill-advised to take off on your own while I’m asleep.”

Crap. Busted.

“You’re right. I’m tired, and my magic hasn’t fully recovered yet,” I reasoned aloud.

“So, that means it should recover soon?” he responded hopefully.

“It should. Look, I’ll give you my word I’m not going to take off without you while you’re asleep, okay? In exchange, before we nod off, you’re going to answer a few questions for me.”

Zelgadiss flashed a strained smile. “I suppose that’s fair. You’re deeply involved in this mess now; you have a right to know. Very well, where would you like me to begin?”

“Let’s start with the guy who calls himself Rezo the Red Priest—”

“Ah, so he’d already made contact with you?”

“Yeah, and I had a weird feeling about him. Who is he really?”

Zelgadiss shrugged. “He is the man he claims to be. He is the authentic Rezo the Red Priest. However, he’s not the man the world knows him to be. Perhaps, a long time ago, he was…”

“I don’t understand. How could he be the total opposite of what the whole world thinks?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people believe what they want to believe. Do you understand the significance of the object he seeks?”

“Time out. Just so we’re clear here: He’s the one who wants to revive Shabranigdu the Dark Lord, and not you, right?”

Zelgadiss obviously didn’t understand my question. “Shabranigdu? What are you talking about?”

“Um… well, he said—”

“The object he desires is known by a great many names, but the most famous is the ‘Philosopher’s Stone.’”

Eeep! I was speechless.

“Th-the Philosopher’s Stone… ? Then… he, he could …”

Zelgadiss nodded.

“The Philosopher’s Stone is contained within the goddess statue that you briefly possessed.”

The Philosopher’s Stone… heard of it? You probably have. There’s not a single practitioner of sorcery who does not know of it and wonder at its legendary power. It is said to be a relic of advanced sorcery from a lost civilization, or,

alternatively a fragment of the Divine Staff that supports the world. The only thing known for certain about it is that it amplifies magic. Like, a gazillion-fold. Each rumored appearance of the Philosopher’s Stone has profoundly affected the course of human history. It’s believed that even an apprentice sorcerer in possession of the stone could wipe out an entire kingdom. Though it is a near myth, elder sorcerers insist that it’s real.

And, I’d actually held it in my hands!

“B-but, what does he want to do with it?” Even if the legends of Rezo’s goodness were exaggerated, the extent of his powers wasn’t. On his own, they were astounding, but with the stone… he claims he has no plans to conquer the world,” Zelgadiss replied. “He says he simply wants to see it.”

“He wants to see it… ?”

“Yes. As the stories say, Rezo was born blind. He began to learn White Magic for the sole purpose of opening his own eyes.

“Once he mastered White Magic, he traveled the world, visiting other sages, helping many people along he way. But, while he could heal the eyes of others, for some reason he was unable to heal his own. He began to wonder why his efforts were inadequate. So he studied Black Magic and then Shamanic Magic, hoping that they would provide him with sufficient power. He was talented and driven and he mastered these mystic traditions well. And still, his eyes would not open. Only one means remained.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone, which he probably wasn’t even sure existed.”

Zelgadiss nodded.

“Then… I don’t understand. Why stop him from getting the stone? What’s the harm in him acquiring vision?’’

“There may not be any. But my objective is vengeance. For that, I require the Philospher’s Stone. I am nowhere near powerful enough to defeat him on my own.”

“Rezo’s that powerful?”

He nodded silently. So, this was all about Zelgadiss refusing to be a pawn. Of course, I’d feel the same way.

“So, he… he is the one who did this to you?” I said, referring to his rocky skin.

“Yes. On that day, he told me he was granting me power so that I could assist him in his quest for the stone. And I… foolishly, accepted. I did not understand what he intended to do.”

“How did you know him?”

Zelgadiss’ mood changed as I posed the question. He broke out in self-derisive laughter. “I’ve known him since I was born. He is, it would seem, either my grandfather or my great-grandfather. I’m not sure which, and I don’t really want to find out.”

“For real?”

“I suppose he doesn’t look his age, but he was born over a century ago. In any case, the blood of the famous (or infamous, depending upon your perspective) Rezo the Red Priest does flow through my veins.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry I asked.”

Well, this is awkward. I gingerly rubbed my nose with a fingertip.

“It’s all right,” he said, not laughing anymore.

The weight of our conversation hung unbearably heavy in the air. How do you change the subject after something like that? So, how about this weather, huh?

“All right, well, I get the gist of it now, and I appreciate you filling me in,” I said, trying to sound chipper. “Let’s try to get some sleep,” I added, lying down on my side.

Ah, that’s the good stuff…

I looked over at Zelgadiss, who still stood upright. “Aren’t you going to sleep? You’re tired too, right?”

“I suppose, but I’ll stand watch for now,” he said. “I’ll wake you up after a while, and we’ll trade places.”

“That’s fine. Good night.” I closed my eyes. As tired as I was, it didn’t take long before…

* * *

I awoke, as I always seem to awaken—with a jolt.

I was certain I hadn’t slept for more than a few hours. I could tell from the position of the sun, and the extent to which my body had recovered.

The thirst for battle poisoned the air and penetrated my sleep. It wasn’t coming from one or two people. I figured it to be emanating from as many as ten, maybe more. Normally, I could be more precise about the number, but I was tired and groggy, and my magic was still on the fritz. Whatever the specifics, the enemy outnumbered us.

“We’ve been surrounded,” Zelgadiss said quickly. He didn’t bother lowering his voice. They already knew where we were, so what was the point?

“By whom?”

“Twenty or thirty trolls. Rezo’s not with them. We’ll manage.” He sounded unconcerned. I, on the other hand, was somewhat less than confident.

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t notice you was gone, did you? We gotta settle this, boss.”

Recognizing the voice, I rose to my feet, spotting trolls attempting to conceal themselves in trees.

“Well hello, Dilgear! Fancy meeting you all the way out here,” I shouted to the trees. “Why don’t you come out of there? Show yourself and greet me properly We’ll reminisce about old times. It’ll be peachy.”

The wolf-thing dropped from a tree much closer than I’d expected.

“You remembered my name,” he said, sounding sincerely flattered. That was weird.

“Like I could forget you!” I answered, staring him straight in the snout. “Aren’t you the one who found me so repulsive that you’d rather make out with a goat? Or was it a goblin? That’s right. You probably eat goats. Goats are for eating, goblins are for swapping spit. There was something about a cyclops, too, wasn’t there? Well, I can certainly understand why you’d favor a gal who couldn’t see too well, you know what I’m saying? Then again, what do I know? Apparently, I wish I were as hot as a cyclops. My skin’s rougher than a rock golem’s; I’m smaller than a pixie; really, I’m just an underdeveloped little—”

“Hey, hey, hey! I didn’t go that far.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because Zelgadiss is gonna kick your butt for insulting me, you’ll see! Go, Zelgadiss! The world is waiting for you! Show ‘em what you’ve got! Get ‘em!”

“Go on, now, we’re waiting!”

“Sic ‘em!”

“What… do you think you’re doing?” Zelgadiss was staring at me, arms crossed, a quizzical look on his face.

“Me?” I looked back at him, just as perplexed. It wasn’t as if I were going off on Dilgear just for fun—no, it wasn’t!—it was strategic! I was attacking the enemy’s morale.

Seriously!

“Dilgear, did you not swear an oath of loyalty to me?” Zelgadiss’ voice took on a surpassingly menacing tone.

The wolf-thing balked. “I didn’t swear loyalty to Zelgadiss,” he replied. “I swore to the berserker that Rezo the Red Priest created. I checked! The moment you betrayed Lord Rezo, you became my enemy, and I was relieved of any obligation to you!” Apparently, it’s in the manual.

“Oh, really?” Zelgadiss’ eyes narrowed. He certainly looked like a berserker.

“Do you really think you can take me? You measly dimwitted, half-breed, pathetic excuse for a wolf—” Wow. Remind me to stay on Zelgadiss’ good side from now on.

“Half-breed, is it? Has it come to that? All right, if that’s the way you want to play it, boss, I’ll show you what a stupid half-breed like me can do… Get ‘emmmmm!” Dilgear bellowed, and a phalanx of armed trolls charged straight at us.

Oh, holy crap.

A subtle smile appeared on Zelgadiss’ lips as he raised his right hand. I couldn’t see what he was gripping, but I could feel the earth starting to move.

“Dug Haut!” he shouted.

“Wah!” I rushed to his side and held on tight. The earth pulsed. It began to quiver and quake, and undulate like the surface of the ocean during a storm.

The trolls began to panic.

“Haaa!” Zelgadiss shook his right hand violently, a maniacal grin spread across his face. “Earth! Obey my will!”

Rocks and soil heeded Zelgadiss’ command. The undulating ground transformed into countless stalagmites, bursting through the surface and impaling the trolls wherever they stood.

Game over.

As great as their regenerative abilities were, their troll bodies failed to heal around the spikes, while the effort was wearing out their life forces fast. Their powers fading; they would surely die soon.

Not a good way to go, if you ask me. Then again, considering my stunt with the reversed recovery spell back at the inn, I wasn’t in any position to judge.

Oh, It’s On Now!

Gourry shook his head as Zorom spoke… or oozed… or whatever it was that Zorom did to produce sounds.

“An ally of the girl, are you?”

“I’m more than her ally. I’m this girl’s guardian.”

My guardian?

“This really doesn’t make any difference to me. Whichever way you define your relationship to the girl, you still wind up my enemy. Am I mistaken?”

“Not at all, old man.”

“Then I shall destroy you.”

“Go on… take your best shot!” Gourry shouted, as he took off running, luring the big, ugly pincushion away from me.

“Haaaaaa!” With that blood-curdling battle cry, the demon unleashed his flame whips and silver needles in a single volley

Gourry’s sword flashed.

Damn! I couldn’t even track the blade with my eyes. It was the first time I’d really watched Gourry’s swordsmanship in action. His skill was on a completely different level from my own.

An instant later, his blade sliced Zorom’s head open. Nice!

“Ha!” Zorom laughed.

Gourry turned just in time to knock away a battery of silver flashes headed for his back.

“So young, too! Impressive for someone so new.” Zorom spoke as if the cuts didn’t matter.

“You’re a demon, then… Gourry tossed out the question as casually as if he were asking, “So, where’re you from?”

Of course he’s a demon, doofus! Haven’t you been paying attention?

“Oh yes. Which means, you will not be able to do me damage with that blade, young man. It just won’t cut it.” Demon humor. You just knew it had to be yucky.

He was right, though. All Mazoku, including half demons, lesser demons, brass demons, and especially pureblooded demons like this one, exist on the astral plane. Their physical forms cannot be destroyed because they’re not really there— make sense? You have two options, then, for prevailing over a Mazoku: trapping him in a holy talisman (none of which were handy at the moment) or defeating him with a magical sword. Gourry was amazing with his blade, but the blade itself seemed unremarkable. Even my enchanted sword wasn’t powerful enough to do the job.

In my estimation, the situation was just about as futile as Zorom said it was. With no other choice, I was going to have to get serious.

“Oh, it’ll cut,” Gourry said curtly.

It’ll cut his hair maybe, but a fat lot of good that’ll do us!

“Oh, really?” Zorom mocked him. “Then, show me, please. I’m anxious to see this.”

“Well, since you asked…”

I had absolutely no idea what Gourry was thinking when instead of sheathing his sword he withdrew a single needle from his pocket with his right hand.

“Do you intend to annoy me to death with pinpricks?” Zorom could barely contain his amusement. “Perhaps you’ll finish me off with paper cuts?”

“Of course not.” Gourry smiled as he gripped his sheathed sword’s hilt with his left hand. “Don’t be silly.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is it that you intend to do?”

“This.” And with that, Gourry threaded the needle into the hilt.

Huh? What is he doing? He was messing around with the joint that locked the blade of his sword to its hilt. Which meant… he was detaching the blade?

Why?

Gourry drew the now-bladeless hilt, pocketed the needle, and looked up and smiled. “Do you understand now?”

Understand what?!

He was both calm and confident. Neither of which made any sense, since he was about to take on a demon pureblood while brandishing… a hilt.

“Young man,” Zorom sighed. “I am greatly amused and am grateful to you for that. But I cannot claim any understanding whatsoever.”

“Then how about—THIS!“ Gourry grasped the sword hilt with his right hand, thrusting it forward.

Yeah, no, you still look like an idiot brandishing a wooden handle, Gourry. Sorry.

“Well… I understand that you are a fool!“ Zorom laughed as dozens of flaming arrows appeared, all targeted at Gourry.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Gourry scoffed and—incredibly— managed to dodge the lot.

Still, he wasn’t any closer to defeating Zorom. It didn’t matter how many attacks he evaded, it was just prolonging the inevitable.

Zorom closed in. And then…

“Light come forth!” Gourry roared.

Zorom stiffened. My eyes widened. Zorom was bisected from his head to his toes. It took me a minute, but I did manage to scream.

Gourry held his sword in his right hand. Where the steel blade had been, a blade of light shone forth.

“Th-th-the Sword… of L-L-Light…” I stuttered.

Before my very eyes, flickering in Gourry’s hand… there was no doubt about it. It was the legendary Sword of Light. Hot damn.

Zorom’s body cleaved in two like a split log, before crumbling into dust and returning to the astral plane.

Gourry sheathed the Sword of Light, since it had done its duty.

“G-Gourry…” I finally managed, my voice crackling like oil in a hot iron skillet.

“Yes, ma’am?” Gourry grinned widely and looked my way. “How’ve you been, little lady?”

“Gourry—!” I broke into a run and headed toward him with all the speed my dainty legs could muster. I stopped and stood right in front of him, gazing up at his face.

Epilogue

Is it… over?” By the time Gourry finally broke the silence, Shabranigdu’s body had long since blown away. “Yeah,” I croaked, my voice dry with the smoke and heat. “Thanks to Rezo.”

“Rezo…” Zelgadiss spoke as he stared at the place where the Demon Lord had stood. He was finding it hard to believe it had been destroyed.

“You knew it, didn’t you? That Rezo’s soul was still there inside him? Even after the Demon Lord corrupted him— over months and years, a part of the good in him remained, hating the Demon Lord for having deceived him. Without his help… the dark energy I created would have drained my own.”

“Just the same, Lina, what you did was really something.” Gourry stared at me, speechless.

Then, Zelgadiss too.

I bet they’re both in love with me. It just goes to show you— “Your hair,” Gourry whispered. They were staring at my silver hair. The mark of an excessive drain on one’s life force.

“L-Lina… your hair…” Gourry stepped back. Like it was contagious.

“I’m A-okay. I just used a little too much power. I smiled sweetly. “I am tired, though. How about you guys?”

“I’m… fine….”

Liar. Despite what he said, Gourry seemed a bit wobbly “I’m… not dead yet, at least.” Zelgadiss looked like he was doing just a bit better than Gourry.

“Okay, well, I’m glad,” I murmured. Still smiling, I spread myself flat on my back and closed my eyes.

It felt good to just let my tired body… rest.

* * *

It took us three more days to get to the point where we were within sight of Atlas City. I raised my voice as I caught a glimpse of the cityscape in the distance.

“Yay!” I shrieked. “Tonight we can eat good food and sleep in soft, fluffy beds….” My hair hadn’t returned to its normal chestnut yet, but I’d completely recovered from the fatigue.

“It’s been quite a trip,” Gourry sighed.

“Well, then… it seems this is where we part company,” said Zelgadiss abruptly.

“Why?” Gourry and I both asked at once.

“Although I have appreciated our time together, someone of my appearance is ill-suited for large cities such as this one.”

“Oh… I see. I’m sorry.” I knew arguing with him would be pointless. “What are you going to do from here?”

“Well, I’ll do as I please on my own. I’d just cause trouble if I stayed with you two….” He rubbed the bridge of his nose in embarrassment.

“Should we live much longer, I’m sure we’ll meet again…. I only hope that the next time, it is I who can be of assistance to you!”

“I’m sure well meet again. I hope so,” I said, and before he could leave, I awkwardly shook his hand.

“Someday,” Zelgadiss replied softly.

You know, for a guy with stone for skin, he was quite a softie.

“Take care.” Gourry waved lightly.

“Yeah. You, too.”

Goodbyes said, Zelgadiss released my hand, turned his back, and walked away

“Lina…” Gourry began, as we both watched Zelgadiss’ shape grow smaller in the distance.

Since the battle with the Demon Lord, Gourry had taken to calling me “Lina” instead of “little lady.”

“Lina, the way you shook his hand… you’re not falling for that guy, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I laughed.

“I don’t think it’s so ridiculous,” he said, and mercifully changed the subject. “So, what are you going to do when we arrive in Atlas City?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know…” I fell into thought. “How about if you give me that Sword of Light like you said you would, Gourry?”

“I said what? When?”

“You’re not going to hand it over then?”

“Of course not.”

“That’s too bad. I’d be nearly invincible. It would make a spectacular research project….”

“I said no.”

“Yeah, I know,” I nodded.

“So what are your plans?” Gourry asked in confusion.

“I’ve decided I’ll keep traveling on ahead.”

“Where to?” he asked, still not getting it.

“Wherever you go.”

“Huh?”

I’m going to follow you everywhere you go until you decide to give the Sword of Light to me.” I winked. “Anyway… let’s go.” “Oooooh,” said Gourry, smiling. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With that, we began moving forward.

On to Atlas City.

Afterword

By “L”

The Author’s Official Spokeswoman

Well hello there, you extraordinarily attractive readers. May I say what great taste you have in fine literature? What a pleasure it is to finally meet you.

Me? Oh… uh… you can call me “L” for now. I know, I know, the Afterword is the author’s responsibility, but he’s laz—I mean, shy. He’s shy. He did ask me to say hi for him, though. So… um… hi?!

Wouldn’t you rather hear from a beauty like myself, anyway? I mean, I’ve met the guy, and he’s nothing to write home about, you know what I’m sayin’?

Oops. Guess he heard that. La, la, la. Moving on…

Note to my minions: If the author complains again, lock him in the bathroom until I’m finished! Confiscate his robe so he won’t crawl out the window! If you let him escape, you’ll wish you’d never been born!

What? Oh, like you’ve never ever had to lock somebody in the bathroom before. You’re not fooling anybody, all right? All I’m doing is holding the author hostage until I finish the Afterword. Everybody does it, okay? Nothing to see here, people. Drive on.

Anyway

Where were we before that unpleasantness? Oh, yes. My author made his debut in Japan’s Dragon Magazine. And although he is painfully aware that he’s a terrible writer, living entirely off the generosity of you and me, with not a lick of actual talent, he nonetheless wishes to express his gratitude to Hori-san’s fan letter, Kitazaki-san’s direct support, everyone’s moral support, QZ-san, and everyone else involved with the Fantasia Collection. Oh, and the publisher. Seriously, he thanks them all very, very much.

And above all, he thanks you very much.

I know, I know, he’s a complete incompetent, but for my sake if not his, please, please make a place for him in your hearts.

And now, without further ado and before he manages to escape from the bathroom, here are some fun facts you might not know about my author:

My author has liked scary monsters since he was a little kid. His specialty in high school was drawing animals, especially the bigger and meaner ones.

When he’s watching anime, he’s usually yelling at the TV about how lame the monsters are. Weirdly, the monsters always seem to get more powerful while he’s yelling. (Maybe that’s why he had to make up the most powerful demon, like, ever. There’s no way a demon feeding on all the darkness of an entire world could be a weakling!)

The author is not a satanist.

You know what’s really creepy? This old guy actually finds it easier to write from a first-person perspective! So since the main character’s a girl, he’s gotta think like a girl, too, instead of just writing what a guy would do in the same situation.

Once the author began with Sword and Sorcery, he stubbornly refused to give up. I say it’s because the author is an avid game-player! The magic wielded in his stories is the best example.

The magic in Slayers is based on role-playing games, just as you might have guessed. The author wanted to make the Black Magic even more spectacular, but since this would destroy the world, it would have made for a pretty short series.

He actually enjoys thinking about magical theories and magical what-ifs like: What if you used a recovery spell, which raises life-force energy potential on a zombie to increase the extent of its rot and do damage to the non-living muscle and flesh? The thing is, though, he also goes on and on about how you can come up with lots of ideas beforehand, but once you actually sit down and start writing a novel, it’s a lot of hard work beating those ideas into shape and making them consistent.

Well, whatever the case, sometime soon I’ll be back in the field, showing everyone what I can do.

Okay! Everyone send the author threatening fan letters telling him to do whatever I want!

Well, I’m just kidding there. Okay, only about the “threatening” part.

I know this Afterword is completely screwy. Be thankful that the book itself came through safe and sound-ish….

Thank you.

We sincerely hope you’ve enjoyed the book you hold in your hands.

Our hearts go out to you!

Truly, thank you very much.

In the Next Volume:

Lina and Gourry find themselves in the middle of a magical battle in Atlas City. Tarim the Violet and Daymiar the Blue are vying for Halciform the White’s position as Chairman of the Sorcerer’s Guild. Both Tarim and Daymiar, anxious that they will be attacked and/or killed, recruit a couple of bodyguards (in addition to Lina and Gourry) for protection. When a group of homunculus warriors and chimera wolves attack Tarim’s home, the bodyguards fight back only to later fall victim to one of Daymiar’s schemes.

While on their travels, Lina and Gourry have managed to rescue a man caught in an emerald at the bottom of a pool, witness a curse that transforms a man into meat, and discover a headless body. And all they have to show for their efforts is the empty notion that nothing is as it seems.

So… who can Lina and Gourry trust? What are Tarim and Daymiar really afraid of? And last but not least—how will you be able to function without the next installment of Slayers! Be sure to visit your local bookstores for Volume 2: The Sorcerer of Atlas.