+-----------------+
| |S|L|A|Y|E|R|S| |
|S|T|A|R|B|O|A|R|D|
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| Three | Battle of the Century of the Week |
+-------+-------------------------------------+
A Slayers Fanfic Series by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne
(Certain characters copyright H. Kanzaka / R. Araizumi, obviously.
If I ever even considered claiming that those were my own characters
I'd probably be thrown into a small cell where I'd be forced to eat
my own testicular fortitude to live.)
Check out the web center with fanart, *exclusive side stories* and more, at
--> http://pixelscapes.com/slayers/starboard <--
-=-
The ocean is dynamic, but static. Waves crash and currents run wild,
whirling around each other in an amazing dance that leads to weather with a
fractal edge; no two moments in time are identical. At the same time,
though, you can count on the ocean being exactly where you left it the day
before.
In a way, it mirrors the social dynamic of the Architypicos Archipelago
flawlessly. For over a thousand years, sailors have thrived off these
islands, settling down and unsettling and travelling hither tither and yon...
but the islands stay the same. Most people shuffle around as often as the
waves collide, but some families are like the rock of ages... the founding
families of the Archipelago.
One of them, the Mainev clan, were the first to settle down on Dark
Island and haven't left since. For centuries, they've been the dominant
force in smuggling and thievery, their skull-and-bones crest flying high over
every freewheeling shady deal.
Their home, Dark Island, has only one law -- that everything is legal.
Pure anarchy. Of course, stupid crooks who assume this means they can freely
steal and kill and run amok soon find they've made many enemies in the
process, who have nothing holding them back from taking a measure or twelve
of revenge.
The Mainevs watch over the entire island, acting as mediators when need
be, hired guns when more appropriate. They are the nexus around which all
other crimes in the islands rotate. Criminal empires have come and gone,
always secondary to the Mainevs; as kings of the hill, they've survived
longer than the competition, outlasting everything that challenges them.
Solid like the rock of the island, and unyielding to change over time.
At least, until everything went wrong.
"There's been a split, almost right down the middle," Phinneas explained
from his Captain's Quarters perch, as the Lightfeather sailed on towards its
destination. "On one side, ye have the elders of the clan with a traditional
view on business, under the patriarch Vincent Mainev. They fly the standard
black and white Mainev crest that ye described to me... on the other ye've
got the radical views the younger members have, loosely led by the next in
line to the throne, Vinnie Mainev Junior. They use an inverted crest, the
white and black."
"And we've got no idea which group has the piece of the map Naga's notes
talked about," Lina summarized, leaning back in her chair, thinking about the
story she'd just heard. "In fact, asking around about it could set off a
powderkeg between the rivals... right in the middle of an island coated in
bandits, thugs, goons and faceless minions of three hundred different minor
crime families. Right?"
"In a nutshell, yes," Phinneas agreed. "I think I can get ye an
audience with Vincent, the elder leader, but I'm on bad terms with the other
lot. I still recommend avoidin' Dark Island altogether--"
"The map might be there. We've got to investigate, no matter what the
danger," Lina said. "I'm paying you to take me there, aren't I? What's the
problem?"
"The PROBLEM is that ye might dunk me in the middle of the Mainev civil
war!" Phinneas complained, narrowing his eyes. "I said I'd take ye where ye
want, not wreck my business in the process!"
"Hey, don't panic! I can do subtle and sneaky," Lina assured. "We'll
slip in like... I hate to use the phrase given where we're going, but like
thieves in the night. Find out where the map bit is, lift it, and we're out.
No need to cause a situation. Of course... there is one risk."
"What, like bein' stabbed or shot or strung up by yer fingernails by a
thousand criminal overlords who've got no law to tell 'em what to do?"
Lina drummed her fingers on the table. "Not exactly... it's the one
thing that could make it all explode in our faces--"
The door to the captain's quarters swung open with enough cheerful
enthusiasm to splinter the wood.
"Liiiina! Lunch is ready!" Amelia announced, wearing her frilly pink
apron of many chocolate stains. "I made Amelia's Specialty Sandwiches of
Love and Justice!! Come and get it! Ne, can I have some of the petty cash
to go buy cooking supplies when we get to this new island?"
"I see what you mean," Phinneas muttered.
+-------------+
|P|A|R|T|O|N|E|
+-------------+
It's very difficult to see on Dark Island. This is because the island
is, to point out the obvious, dark.
It's not that light mysteriously fails to reach Dark Island, it's that
it can't reach Dark Island -- the geography of the island prevents this. The
livable space of the island, a large circularish city, is completely
surrounded by tall, skinny mountains. This natural wall is terrific for
repelling barbarian invaders, but awful for natural sunlight. Generally you
only get a few hours around lunchtime of ordinary daylight; the rest of the
time you've got to squint a bit.
Lunchtime was starting to fade, and that meant a shadow cast over half
the city. Despite this, a pair of eyes focused a thousand feet away with
effortless ease. To anyone else, the object being examined was just another
ship in a crowded harbor, near the blasted-open docking cave that connected
the inside of the natural wall to the ocean beyond. A tiny brown and white
pinprick mixed into a jumble of other things.
To eyes that had the uncanny ability to see in the dark and gaze for
miles, it looked exactly like the S.S. Lightfeather, with Lina and crew
disembarking. It wasn't possible to hear that far, but the way the younger
one kept waving her arms in protest as her stone-faced companion kept a hand
on her shoulder spoke volumes.
"Looks like she's ordering the young one you called Amelia to stay on
board," Kyle explained, keeping his eyes on her and ignoring his slowly
cooling cup of coffee.
"Oh, no doubt," Xelloss said, bemused. He took a sip of his tea before
continuing. "She's a justice otaku. I fear this is not a very good place
for one such as she. Poor Amelia-chan! Pass the sugar, please."
"We've got to get moving," Kyle said, rising from his chair. "I'll tail
Lina through the crowd; you get up top and scout arial to see where she's
going. Once we've got her destination figured out, we can get there ahead of
time and--"
"She's going to see Vincent Mainev at the North Wall Mansion," Xelloss
said simply, fetching his own sugar. "But he won't give her the map piece.
I hate to think how she'll react to that. You know, as your consultant I
advise you to order the 'Atrocity of Chocolate'. The local desserts of Dark
Island have such peculiar names, but amazing combinations of flavors and
styles--"
In an instant, Kyle was almost nose to nose with Xelloss, and looking
rather pissed.
"You... already knew where they're going?" he asked, in the calmest
words he could manage.
"You're invading my personal space, Kyle," Xelloss whined.
Kyle sat back down, and took his face in his hands, groaning. "You
could have said something, you know. You're ALWAYS like this, Xel, I swear!
Even with your allies you hold things back and play with them!"
"So do you," Xelloss pointed out. "You haven't told me why Deep Sea
wants the map."
"She hasn't told me, either. I don't even think Deepie knows why she
wants it. Look, Xel... we've known each other for how long? Thousands of
years? Here I ask a perfectly simple favor of you, to be my consultant and
guide for this weird island chain, and you're playing games with me. First
there's your 'secret' price for this job, then there's you not bothering to
tell me where the map piece is--"
"--and if you had half a mind, you'd fire me on the spot and send me
back to Wolf Pack Island," Xelloss finished for him. "And you're right, I
can't help myself sometimes. I like to play. We both do; I've used you in
the past for my causes, and Shabby knows you've used me. I really respect
that in you. But we're both on the same page here, Kyle. We're both Mazoku
and we're working for the Lords and their wishes. We can't disobey them."
"Just be straight with me for a change, please," Kyle requested.
"Because I don't need this crap right now. I'm on a very thin wire with
Deepie and if you've got an agenda that'll mess with that, Xelloss, I swear
I'll hit you so hard your grandparents die."
"Stop thinking like a human, I don't have grandparents and neither do
you," Xelloss chided. "And for the record... I follow nothing other than the
glorious cause of the Mazoku, as do you. Is this satisfactory?"
"For now," Kyle decided. "So. If you know where the map piece is--"
"--why haven't we simply snatched it?" Xelloss completed.
"If you finish my sentences for me one more time, Xel, I'll turn that
frown right side up."
"As your consultant, I advise you to come with me," Xelloss said, rising
from his chair. "I'll demonstrate exactly why we are not going to steal the
map piece."
"You could just TELL me why..."
"Come come, Kyle, what fun would that be? By the way, as your
consultant I should note Dark Island has a traditional 20% tip and you're
covering all expenses for this venture. I'll meet you outside after you
settle the tab."
[*]
It was taking time for her eyes to adjust to the weird lighting of Dark
Island. Street lanterns were few and far between; probably because everybody
had shady dealings to take care of now and then, and bright light would
discourage that local sort of commerce. It took a good three minutes of
marching along, following the thankfully brightly colored Phinneas and
leading Gourry by the hand, before Lina could properly see.
Cities had a plan that was pretty hard to deviate from. You'd have your
streets, your back alleys, little connecting roads... shops, taverns, cafes,
specialty services, and so on. Despite being an anarchy, Dark Island adhered
to the law of city planning to a T. Perhaps there were a few more buildings
simply labelled 'Import/Export' than Lina was used to seeing, but that was
it.
The difference lie in the people. Very few folks passing by would stop
to say hello, and all of them seemed ready to jump into bloody combat at a
split second's notice. Tension was in the air so thick that you couldn't cut
it with a knife -- but perhaps with a fifty pound axe, the kind you fell
mighty trees with, there could be a few scratches made. (This also meant
that people avoided Lina like a flock of birds avoiding a cat... their
instincts being so highly trained and all.)
"Boy, these people are unfriendly," Gourry understated. He was smart
enough to keep his voice down; swordspeople such as he had a sixth sense for
impending doom, and a seventh sense of how to avoid it.
"No kidding," Lina mumbled back to him. "Phinneas, are there ever riots
or anything around here? I can't imagine this many criminals working in
close quarters without serious problems. I can't imagine how this island
could've stayed stable for a thousand years, either..."
"Nobody knows why. It's a mystery," Phinneas explained, pulling back on
the throttle and perching on Gourry's head to chat with them. "There are
always small battles somewhere on the island, when tensions between rivals
finally snap... but the whole island rocks along on some weird sort of mutual
fear that keeps major disturbances in check. There's a whole network of
fear, survival and revenge that keeps everybody from goin' ballistic. I
usually just dock, unload my goods, take on the next load and leave... I
don't like comin' into the city. I hope ye appreciate the sacrifices I'm
makin' for your benefit, Missy Inverse."
"If you're hoping to gouge me for more money, forget it," Lina warned.
"We've got enough funds to cover expenses for the trip and I'm not paying
another farthing or piece of eight or whatever."
"Oh, I'M not expectin' more money," Phinneas said. "I'm expectin' ye to
fork over more money to the shipyard! We're lucky to still be sailin'. The
Lightfeather took a beatin' against that piratess and Death's Bloody Door,
you know! Whole front of the ship is scraped up after ye crashed it..."
"I'm not to blame if someone wants to pick a fight, okay?" Lina
countered. "It's par for course in the adventuring business. And I've got
no idea why the 'Death's Door' jumped us! What's with those guys, anyway?
When they attacked, you were freaking out."
"I wasn't freakin' out, I was merely... ponderin'," Phinneas lamely
covered. "And what's up with those guys is that they're psychotic maniacs.
I told ye, they rob ye, kill everybody aboard and sometimes sink the ship--"
"And they did that to your original crew," Gourry chose to recall.
"...aye, they did," Phinneas spoke, after a twitching pause.
"Slaughtered the whole lot. I don't usually tell the story, but since Missy
Lina seems so intent on learnin' about those guys... well. I wasn't always
the captain, you know."
"I figured as much," Lina said. "I doubt you could have bought a boat
on your own... and your sail looks pretty cheaply made. Most people paint a
picture on their sail if they want a feather, they don't glue one on."
"I make do, okay?" Phinneas retorted. "Anyway... the ORIGINAL captain
got me as a gift. Har har, magic parrot, instant morale booster and status
symbol, huh? Then the... stupid humans unluckily bumped into Death's Door.
They fought, but all of 'em died and the ship was cast adrift. I played it
dumb and kept squawkin' like some dumb bird and they didn't bother to touch
me."
"Okay, that sounds like bad news," Lina guessed, dismissing it. "I'm
not worried. If they attack people randomly then odds are we'll never see
them ag--"
"Bad news??" Phinneas warbled, anger rising. "You want to know exactly
what kind of bad news ye are involved in, Missy Lina? Let me tell ye, then.
See if ye can imagine the following: one sentient bloody parrot, without any
way to control a drifting ship, with a dozen plus bodies decayin' in the sun.
I had to sit in the crow's nest while the ship drifted aimlessly, 'cause the
smell was intolerable. If the ship had run aground on Bloody Dangerous
Island one day later than it did, I wouldn't be squawkin' with ye now. THAT
is what Death's Door is. Nobody survives an encounter with 'em... definitely
not twice. So you BETTER be hoping ye'll never see them again. Am I makin'
myself clear here, or is my adorably birdly chirping goin' in one ear an' out
the other?"
"...you're making yourself clear," Lina said quietly. "Now, let me make
myself clear. I'm fully aware of how dangerous those guys are; don't forget,
I'm a sorceress. I recognized the power they had, power we barely were able
to overcome. But I'm not the sort to dwell on things I can't do anything
about. Right now, there's nothing we can do about them, and we don't even
know if we'll meet them again, so I'm not going to panic or brood. I'm going
to smile, dismiss the threat for the time being, and concentrate on the here
and now. That's why I only said 'bad news' and moved on. Got it?"
Phinneas's feathers didn't ruffle... but he also kept quiet for a few
paces, before clearing his throat. "I know all about movin' on," he said.
"Fine. Have it yer way."
"She usually does," Gourry added.
"I ain't surprised one bit."
"You know, Mr. Phinneas... if it helps, I'm sorry for you," Gourry said,
feeling something had to be said. "You must've been good friends with the
original crew of the Lightfeather--"
"Past tense, you got that part right at least," Phinneas yarped,
flapping his wings once. "I don't need nobody 'cept to pull the ropes and
lift the heavy things. I don't need no friends. They get in yer way. I'm
sick of this yappin' about; the Mainev mansion ain't far, just follow this
road. I'll meet ye there."
He flapped twice, and took off from Gourry's head, feet scraping the
swordsperson's scalp a bit. Gourry rubbed his head, and blinked a few times
in confusion as the bird took off.
[*]
There were two careers on Dark Island that would never go out of style,
and had very stable job security. One was janitor; after all it was often
best to let someone else take care of the mess you leave behind to avoid
future connection to it. The other was shipwright.
The denizens of Dark Island had a lot of ships, and did a lot of
shipping -- the sort of shipping that involves other ships going after your
ship and trying to sink your ship in ship to ship combat that led to ship
damage which needed a shipwright to put the ship back in ship shape. It
wasn't even particularly difficult work; whack a few nails through a board
and you have a patch for a cannon hole. Bigger hole? Use bigger boards.
Cobb had been a shipwright at Dark Island for his entire life,
apprenticed to the best in the business and carrying on a fine family
tradition. The only area of his job which posed risk was deciding which jobs
to push to the front of the queue -- usually ones where late fees included a
side order of broken legs. These he marked with a red spot on the chalkboard
which tracked all current jobs.
Today was a pretty good day; only two red marks, and six of the boys
were handling them easily ahead of schedule. New clients had been light
recently due to the upcoming event everybody wanted to stay in town for; all
the better, since Cobb was a rich man and could afford a vacation.
When the new customer walked in the door, those vacation plans were
dashed. Cobb felt a little annoyed at customers expecting him to provide
service today, but put on his usual professional smile to greet the client
regardless.
"Welcome, welcome," he greeted, because everything sounded more sincere
when you repeated it. "How can Cobb's Ship Repair and Construction aid you
today, mister...?"
The customer kept looking around the small office, as if he didn't hear
Cobb... face concealed inside his cloak, keeping Cobb from reading facial
reactions. It was always a good guideline to study first impressions; it
helped greatly when setting the price mark later if they looked like a
rubbernecking tourist.
Eventually, the man faced him... and Cobb smiled more. A boy! A mere
boy. Very soft, almost feminine definition to the face, with big trusting
eyes and soft black hair. Ideal. The long, crooked metal walking staff was
a bit odd since the boy didn't seem to limp, but that was of no importance.
"My masts are gone," the boy said, in the most normal and plain voice
Cobb could imagine. "Primary and secondary. I need you to replace them.
I'll take your finest sails to go with them."
"Two masts and sails to go with?" Cobb asked. "That's a rather tall
order. Masts are in high demand nowadays, you realize, what with the faction
strife increasing. We can do it, but it'll take about a week--"
"I need them sooner than humanly possible," the boy spoke, inexpressive
as his lips formed the words. "I wish to resume my task quickly."
"We're all simply human, lad," Cobb chuckled. "And I'm afraid it'll
also cost you a great deal of money, what with prices of wood and--"
"It's customary for your people to shake hands when entering business
relations, right?" the boy asked, rotating the walking staff in his hands.
Odd boy, Cobb thought. With a shrug, he brushed up his sleeve (poor
fit, he'd have to have it mended soon) and held out his hand. "Yes, although
usually that's after the deal is conclu--"
The blade flashed like lightning, tracing a line of red hot pain over
the knuckles of each finger on his hand. Before he could even start to
scream, the scythelike blade had vanished again, back into the walking staff.
"We have now concluded business," the boy said. "You will begin
immediately, and the fee will entail me not cutting off all of your fingers,
thus ruining your skills. You've seen the scratch I can make at a moment's
notice, so I honestly don't recommend trying to retaliate--"
"I understand, I understand," Cobb said quickly, grasping his pained
hand... and more annoyed than angry. "This is Dark Island, boy, you don't
have to go overboard. A simple 'do it or die' will suffice. Red mark it is
and I'll shuffle you to the top... although I don't appreciate your
dramatics."
"I don't engage in dramatics," the boy said, turning to leave. "I'm
simply stating facts. Please don't misunderstand me. You have nothing to
fear from me if you perform your task as I've requested. I'm not some demon;
I'm not here to harm anyone."
Could've fooled me, Cobb thought dryly. "I need more information before
you go. Name of the ship, location, and its captain..? Required for the
order, lad."
The boy paused.
"The name is the Death's Door," he said. "You may find it at the
eastern dock, row three. And my name is Mortimer. I will wait on the ship
for your workmen."
The whole 'blood running cold at the name of that ship' affair could
wait; Cobb's survival instincts kicked in, eager to complete this transaction
before panic set in. "Ah, it would be best if your crew disembark while we
work, so as not to get in the way--"
"I don't leave my ship unless it is unavoidable. The crew never leaves
the ship."
"Yes, well, you want this done quickly and it's faster for you to be
somewhere else," Cobb spoke, words accelerating to get out of his mouth.
"Maybe you should find an inn, see the sights, and so on? We could be done
for tomorrow night. Perhaps you could go see the fight..."
A shaking finger pointed at the tattered flyer posted on a nearby
corkboard. The boy pushed back his hood, to examine it...
[*]
MONDAY MONDAY MONDAY!!!!
THE MAINEV CLAN PRESENTS
THE ANNUAL MAINEV FACTION BRAWL FOR ALL!!!!
BLACK AND WHITE STEELGOLD STEAM ODIN
VS.
WHITE AND BLACK AXE DUGGAN
THE TICKET PAYS FOR THE ENTIRE SEAT
BUT YOU'LL ONLY NEED THE EDGE!!!!!!
Lina traced a finger across the lines on the freshly printed flyer.
"Come on, these muscles can't be real. That's artistic license if I ever saw
it."
"I don't know, I've seen some guys built that much," Gourry said,
nodding in appreciation of the rough drawings of the two fighters. "Of
course, they usually can't move real well because they can't bend their arms
and legs, but they look really scary. Monday, huh? Isn't that tomorrow?"
"Gourry, we've got better things to spend our money on than tickets to a
couple freakish guys with breasts bigger than mine slugging each other," Lina
stated. "Now where's this guy?! I'm sick of waiting! If I keep pacing I'm
going to burn an oval into the carpet, and I don't mean with magic!"
Phinneas nudged a page across in the glossy print magazine he was
reading. "Keep yer cool, Missy Inverse, he's a busy man," he said, looking
up. "He'll see us when he's good and ready."
The waiting room was pretty posh, Lina had to admit. Leather couches,
potted plants, nice carpeting... the tapestries with intricate black and
white skulls were mildly unsettling, but otherwise it was like waiting in a
sorcerer's guild field office. In other words, dead boring. There weren't
even any good magazines aside from Bows and Arrows, which Gourry had already
finished and Lina had no interest in.
"You said the two Mainev factions were the Black and White and the White
and Black, right?" Lina asked, looking back to the flyer. "Looks like
they've got a yearly competition."
"Never attended one," Phinneas responded. "Not my thing. Lot of the
people on the island go for it, though. Sells out every year."
"Indeed it does!"
All eyes turned to the doors leading into the main office... and the
large, well built man there.
Most old guys tend to slump over and grow huge beards and wobble around
on walking sticks. Aging gracefully is not a common skill; but this man was
clearly a master. Despite the graying hair, and age pushing near sixty, he
was muscular enough to have it show through his business clothes, and full of
enough vitality to give you a Healthy Youthful Grin and have it look genuine.
He walked right across the plush carpet, grabbed Lina's hand and nearly
shattered it with a friendly handshake.
"Lina Inverse!" he announced. "It is GOOD to meet you! Word of your
legends has been reaching us ever since the northeast continent's shield went
down. If only we had the kind of publicity you seem to generate naturally,
the Mainevs could be feared throughout the world!"
"Uh... thanks," Lina said, freeing her poor hand and wondering if that
was a compliment. "Vincent Mainev Senior, I presume?"
"The Vincent K. Mainev, at your service," Vincent introduced, with a
nobleman's bow. "I understand you've also assisted Phinneas against the
Highwater Serpent and the Death's Door? I've got to thank you for that;
Phinneas is one of our top legitimate shipping contacts. We'd hate to lose
him."
"You know about that?" Lina asked, puzzled. She felt very much lost in
this conversation, as the man dominated affairs; not good.
"Oh, word gets around," Vincent replied, passing it off as an everyday
occurrence. "Now, let's get down to business. We're pretty busy here, in
preparation for the big fight, but I can make time for the legendary Lina
Inverse... I assume you're here with a purpose. Perhaps I can accommodate
that purpose."
Lina frowned internally. Lina, the supplicant coming to a mighty and
powerful BANDIT and begging for something on her hands and knees? Nuts to
that. If he wanted to be this direct, she could be direct too.
"You've got a piece of the map to the Island of Mists and I'd like to
have it," Lina said, cutting around all the niceties. She ignored Phinneas's
troubled feather-rustle, and continued. "I was hoping you could accommodate
me to that purpose, yes. Sound good?"
"A map to the...?" Vincent asked, confusing setting in. The lever of
the conversation started to tip towards Lina's favor. "I don't have any such
thing. Besides, the Island of Mists doesn't exist. It's a fairy story."
"Oh, it exists," Lina said, showing off her knowledge. "It's simply
hidden, and I believe an ancient elven poem is the key to finding it. You,
Vincent sir, quite possibly have part of that key. It should be a strip of
ancient paper, with five symbols on it, evenly spaced. Know what I'm talking
about?"
Vincent's smile wavered. "Yes... I believe I do. But I'm afraid that
no, I cannot accommodate you to that purpose. Sorry to waste your time, Miss
Inverse, but I really have to get back to work now--"
"Hey... Vincent, buddy, you KNOW who I am, right?" Lina asked, playfully
sitting on a nearby coffee table, pushing aside a few leaflets with Mainev
propaganda on them to clear room. "I mean, you seem so thrilled with my
'legends'. Lina the bandit killer, Lina the enemy of all who live..."
"Lina!!" Phinneas shrieked. "Ye said ye wouldn't cause trouble!"
"Hey, be cool, Phinneas, I'm not causing trouble," Lina said. "Do you
see me causing trouble? We're just having a pleasant conversation between
two adults here. Right, Vinnie?"
"...my son calls himself Vinnie. Not me," Vincent warned. "And I mean
what I say. You may be the bandit killer, but I'm not going to hand over
that paper on request. That treasure has been in my family for centuries,
and you're not taking it without a fight."
"Vincent, it's a tiny scrap of paper! I can copy down the symbols and
be out of your way, right?"
The larger man went quiet. Possibly he was thinking of a response,
maybe he was just working up enough nerve to kick Lina out of the office.
Lina didn't want a fight, not after telling Phinneas all would be sunshine
and roses, but she wasn't going to back down from a lowly bandit, either...
The stalemate was voluntarily broken when Vincent spoke. "Phinneas, I'd
like you and Mr. Gabriev to leave the room, please."
"Sir, ah, she doesn't mean any insult," Phinneas covered. "Ha ha, kids
these days, it's really not a--"
"Everything's fine, Phinneas," Vincent said, cool as ice. "Don't worry.
You can wait out in the hall. Mr. Gabriev, don't give me that look. You and
I both know Lina's in no danger at all considering her magical talents.
She'll be fine without you."
He lost, Lina thought. He wouldn't have admitted that unless he knew
he'd lost this battle. She waved a hand, to signal Gourry. "It's fine," she
repeated, to show him she agreed with Vincent. "Just hang loose, we've got
things to discuss."
Gourry stayed put, reluctant. "Lina..."
"If you hear explosions and stuff, THEN you can charge in, okay?" Lina
said, getting irritated now. "Trust me."
"I trust you," Gourry said, nodding once. He turned, and walked out as
Phinneas flew out of the open door.
Alone, Vincent appraised Lina once more. She was really young looking
for an eighteen year old, and definitely didn't SEEM a threat... but both of
them knew she was one.
"You don't want the item you think you want," Vincent said, once he was
sure nobody was within earshot. He loosened the collar on his clothes, and
tugged on a string around his neck... "I know you're going to desire it
anyway, but listen to me first. The paper you're talking about is in this
amulet..."
Lina peered closer, as he withdrew the item from his shirt. It wasn't
much to look at; a tarnished gold metal, in a circular shape. There was a
small latch, suggesting it was hollow inside.
"The Mainevs have always held this amulet as a family treasure," Vincent
said. "It's a token of good luck. Supposedly it's responsible for us
staying on top of the pecking order around here for so long... before any
major business deal, tradition dictates that the head of the family open the
amulet, stroke the paper inside once for luck, and close it."
"I don't have to take the paper," Lina repeated from before. "I just
want to copy down the symbols. I've already got five of them--"
"Then you don't have anything," Vincent said. "Nobody in the family
wants to admit the truth. The paper itself is... I don't know, magical,
mystical, it's impossible to explain. But when you do touch it, while you're
thinking of the deal you're about to make... things go your way. There's no
solid proof other than the steady stream of successes I've had with it. I
don't think it's just a silly superstition. It's wholly impossible for our
family to have survived this long, Lina. This island eats crime syndicates
alive. New ones come and go faster than you can blink."
Lina tapped the table she was sitting on, thinking. "That would make
sense... it's a map to the Island of Mists, after all. I could see it having
some sort of power. I hadn't thought of that... if it's true, then I really
will need all five parts. Odds are they form some kind of magical seal, not
just a simple map..."
"If I give this to you... there's a chance my clan will collapse,"
Vincent explained, tucking the amulet away again. "Without the good luck
charm staying in the family, we'd be just another gang of bandits. It's
true; I'll admit that. Right now, my son's faction is not doing very well in
business, you see. They're failing and falling behind our usual profit
margins."
"He doesn't have the family treasure," Lina said, understanding.
"He wants it," Vincent noted. "Every year he challenges me for it. He
puts his strongest man against mine, and the winner can take the amulet as a
trophy. I've allowed this because if I don't, I could lose face on the
island with those who haven't chosen a side to support."
Lina snapped her fingers. "That's why you said I'm not going to take it
without a fight. HE'S not going to take it without a fight, either."
"I'd like to avoid unnecessary conflict," Vincent said, nodding along
with Lina's deduction. "That's also why I allow the yearly fight. It acts
like a lightning rod for a lot of the faction tensions. You're the sort of
heartless killer who would lay waste to my empire just to get this amulet,
aren't you?"
"Uh... I'm not THAT bad," Lina said, rubbing the back of her head
nervously. "Honestly, the legends are a bit exaggerated--"
"Even if they are, I don't doubt you won't leave here without it,"
Vincent said. "So, Lina, I'm willing to make you a deal. I'm hosting the
fight this year; I make the rules. If I give you a CHANCE to win this
amulet, and you lose, will you back off? It would be fair. A totally level
playing field."
"Whoa, whoa, wait, stop," Lina protested. She pointed to the nearby
flyer. "You want me to slug it out with THOSE two? Are you out of your
mind?"
"Enter anybody you like, as long as they're ordinary humans and they
stick to hand to hand combat," Vincent restricted. "Fair's fair. I'll make
it a three way dance for the amulet -- Vinnie will have to cooperate if he
wants a shot at it himself. But you have to agree to leave me alone if you
lose."
Ordinary humans... that rules Zelgadis out, Lina thought. "How do I
know you won't screw me out of it by cheating, somehow? I don't trust
bandits at their word. It's a matter of policy."
"I could say that I have men watching your ship right now and are ready
to slit your friend's throats, but that's unprofessional," Vincent spoke.
"What I will say is this. Listen to my words. Hear my voice. This is
sincerity. I'm willing to do this for you. I'm sick of the amulet, Lina.
It's brought me nothing but success."
Lina boggled. "Aaaand... success is bad?"
"Imagine yourself with everything you've ever wanted. Everything. You
have no challenges left; every problem goes down without even swinging. The
days blur together in an endless mash of pointless activity, with none of the
vigor of your youth, since there's nothing left to grasp for. More money
than you have use for, more wealth and power than you could ever need. And
there you are, smiling at it all, making like you're proud to be successful
and rich and famous because others are expecting it of you. That's what's
bad, Lina. There is nothing worse than getting everything you want."
...endless days of looting bandit camps, blurring together because they
were so boring, more money than she ever could spend...
"...right," Lina said, troubling thoughts causing her to skim through
most of that, ignoring the warning. "Anyway... three way dance for the
amulet and I can enter any champion I want. Okay. You've been a straight
with me. I'll go with it."
"Be at the central arena before noon tomorrow," Vincent instructed.
"We'll be ready. I'll let my son know of the change in plans. Leave the
rest to me, and you'll get your chance, Lina Inverse."
The matter was settled. Of course, now Lina had to break the news to
Gourry that he was about to go toe to toe with those two guys on the poster.
After all, she wasn't about to get in the ring herself.
Vincent went back to work, writing up a pigeon-transportable message to
his son. Minutes passed. Silence echoed in the office. Two Mazoku arrived.
They faded in from the shadows, their bodies no longer emitting light or
sound, nothing that would disturb Vincent's work. Despite this, they
communicated freely.
"Okay, where is it?" Kyle asked, taking a drag on his cigarette
(funneling the smoke to another plane of existence, rather than clue the
human to his presence). "I don't see why you had to stop at every coffee
house on the way here, either..."
"I was thirsty. Besides, it's not like my demonstration was time
dependent," Xelloss explained. He gestured with his ruby-tipped staff
towards Vincent Mainev. "The piece of the map is worn around his neck, in an
Orihalcon amulet. Feel free to take it, if you wish. It's not like the
feeble mortal can do anything to stop you."
"I'm not stupid, Xel. Obviously there's some reason we can't grab it,"
Kyle said. "So, what's the reason? I don't feel like potentially losing my
arm in some kind of trap."
"Wise beyond your years, as usual," Xelloss chuckled. "Very well. As
your consultant, I advise you to examine the amulet and look for neither
white nor black magic, but both simultaneously nonexisting at the same point
in reality."
Kyle did exactly that. It would've made no sense to a human, but he
knew a few things about the workings of the world they did not...
"Holy hell, what IS that?" he blurted, on catching the field with his
eye. "Orihalcon doesn't emit that kind of signal. It's like... a double
edged blade. If a Mazoku was to grasp the paper inside, it would cut like a
knife, with white magical power. But if a Dragon was to grasp it..."
"The black magic would do a nasty number on them as well," Xelloss
completed, despite earlier warnings. "Correct. Can you imagine it, Kyle? A
power so awesome that even the Dragons were afraid they would misuse it. So,
they designed the key to be completely inaccessible to us AND them. I was a
little shocked myself, the first time I went looking for the map. I didn't
think the Dragons were that imaginative."
"But the humans can touch it. They can be as bad as we are!"
"Or as good. SOMEONE has to play guardian, after all," Xelloss said.
"Five families were entrusted by the Dragons to hold the map pieces secret.
Not all of them remember this edict, but it's held well; even I do not know
exactly where all the pieces are. But it doesn't matter. You and I are not
going to be collecting that map anytime soon, unless we like having less
fingers than we started with."
"Terrific," Kyle grumbled. "Absolutely terrific. Deepie's going to
LOVE this. Why didn't you tell me this whole mission was a bust before we
began? Could've saved a lot of time and effort."
"A bust? Oh, perish the thought! Kyle, Kyle, think. Humans can touch
the map, yes? Behold, the solution! As your consultant I advise you to let
Lina gather the map pieces for you. QED."
"Have you gone senile, old man?" Kyle asked. "Let a HUMAN do the
legwork? LINA INVERSE, much less? Not only is she insanely dangerous, but
there's no real garuntee she'll pull off the job. If something goes wrong,
we're back to square one!"
"I'll forgive your ignorance in this case," Xelloss chided. "After all,
you only know Lina from stories of her exploits... let me tell you something
about Lina Inverse. I've been studying her for quite some time, as you
know."
"Beastmaster's orders, yes," Kyle said. "So?"
"So, I can say with certainty that she's going to pull off the job.
She's like a force of nature, Kyle. Anything in her path is destroyed and
anything she wants, she gets. I've theorized it may be because she bonded to
the Lord of Nightmares at an early age when she first tried the Giga Slave...
but nobody knows for sure."
Kyle frowned. "Nobody knows anything for sure when the mother of all is
involved. She's a tricky one. This sounds like conjecture, Xel."
"Frankly, it doesn't matter WHY it happens," Xelloss noted. "That's
trivial. The important part is realize her unique nature, and to ride her
wave towards your goal... without it backfiring on you, of course. As it has
done for others."
Kyle scratched his chin, considering that. "You mean Phibrizo, don't
you? He tried to use her as a pawn and ended up smoked..."
"Oh, yes," Xelloss said, with a wide smile. "Precisely who I mean. He
didn't fully understand Lina. I did. That's why I'm one of the only Mazoku
who's survived an encounter with Lina Inverse. Surely one with such amazing
longevity as yourself can appreciate this as well. As your consultant, I
advise you to take advantage of this wondrous opportunity!"
"So we... HELP Lina work towards getting the map together," Kyle
concluded. "After all, she wants to gain access to the island too. And when
she does... so do we. It's crazy, but it just might work."
"Any situation where you can say 'It's crazy, but it just might work'
and keep a straight face is a sure bet," Xelloss joked. "I'm so glad we
could have this little chat. With that out of the way, how about an early
supper? I could simply murder a curry about now--"
"You're paying," Kyle said quickly.
"Oh, foo."
+-------------+
|P|A|R|T|T|W|O|
+-------------+
There are a number of acceptable roles a heartless swordsman may take
on. Mercenary. Anti-hero. Goon. Thug. Misunderstood supervillain.
Angstfully handsome tormented soul. All top notch callings for those with
ambiguous morals and a sharp weapon and pretty hair.
Babysitter does not rank among them.
Now, Zelgadis was not always a self declared heartless swordsman. He
was once a heartless swordsman in training, and lived with his family -- but
having no other siblings or grandchildren of note (due to Rezo's personal
eugenics program) he had no experience handling kids. When Lina told him
"Look after Amelia and keep her out of trouble", he assumed he'd just have to
tell her to stay put and that would be that. Curiosity or determination
didn't figure into it. He'd glance through the porthole in the galley door
occasionally, but that was the extent of his surveillance.
Granted that Amelia was hardly a 'child' anymore, but it still seemed
childish to him when he opened the door to the galley to check up on her and
found a weight-of-Amelia doll sitting there instead, with a sign around its
neck reading 'Went To Get Cooking Supplies'.
Fortunately there were no obvious signs of screaming and mayhem near the
dock area, which meant either Amelia hadn't raised a ruckus or she was too
far away to hear or was dead. Zelgadis wasn't going to put even money on any
of the above, as he abandoned ship to do a ruthlessly efficient search of the
city for her.
He found her a few blocks away, at a general store, with an armful of
flatware and breadsticks.
Zelgadis gave Amelia his best 'I'm very cross with you, young lady' arms
folded and foot tapping and raised eyebrow stance, not saying a word.
"...um..." Amelia spoke in her defense, knowing she was busted. "I
figured, you know... Lina and Gourry would be real hungry when they got back
tonight, so I'd better have something extra-nice, and since we were running
out of flour and sugar and--"
"I could have bought anything you needed," Zelgadis said, stepping out
of the way of a passing shopper. "That's no excuse. You heard what Lina
told you -- you were to stay on the ship while we're in port."
"But WHY, Zelgadis?" Amelia asked, annoyance floating in. "I mean, Lina
wouldn't say why and I don't see what the big deal is. Sure, it's a little
hard to see around here but I only tripped twice on my way here! Not even a
bruise... HEY!!"
With a dramatic pose, Amelia pointed to the guy who was swiping oranges
behind Zelgadis's back. Zel didn't even have to turn around to get the idea;
he simply let out a pained sigh, and got ready for the worst.
"Wh-what?" the guy asked, a few other items that were hidden in the
man's jacket falling out as he turned in surprise.
"You're SHOPLIFTING! That's bad! It's wrong! And it's against the
law, too!" Amelia declared. "In the name of justice, I will--"
The chimera simply leaned against the aisle, one arm outstretched, to
block Amelia's access to righteously punishing the evil doer.
"Sorry, she's new here," Zelgadis explained. "But you'd better get out
of here before she tells the shopkeeper."
To Amelia's unbelieving eyes, the evil mastermind thanked Zelgadis
profusely, and fled the scene of the crime. Not a single eyebrow was raised
by this, other than her own.
"Z-Zelgadis-san..." Amelia gasped. "You're... you HELPED the bad guy?
Oh, no! You've turned down the dark path of crime! How tragic... the months
since we last met must have been terrible, indeed, pushed to new desperate
lows!"
Zelgadis shook his head. "Look, Ame--"
*klik*. Much to his surprise, he was now wearing handcuffs.
"I regret that I must turn you into the authorities!" Amelia announced,
with a glistening tear of regret in her eye. "Oh, Zelgadis-san, how
terrible! But in the spirit of--"
"Where did you get handcuffs?" Zelgadis asked, mildly surprised.
"Oh, I carry them at all times in case I have to make a citizen's
arrest," Amelia explained. "Although technically I'm not a citizen of Dark
Island, I feel it is my moral obligation to enforce the law!"
With a casual twist of the wrists, Zelgadis snapped the chain on the
cuffs in half. Better not to make a scene, he thought, ushering a shocked
Amelia off to a quieter, more secluded aisle of the store.
"Look, it's very simple," he began. "The reason why Lina wanted you to
stay on the boat is because the 'law' of Dark Island has only one sentence...
'everything is legal'. It's an anarchy, Amelia. You can't go around
trouncing the bad guys or arresting people because technically the bad guys
are not doing anything wrong and there are no jails to toss them in even if
they were! Now, can I have the key to these?"
"...annne-aaar-key?" Amelia repeated, the word unfamiliar.
"Yes. It means a government system of having no government and no
system," Zelgadis translated. "Everything is legal here. EVERYTHING. If
anything, you're breaking the law trying to impose laws that don't exist.
This is not the place for your Miss Justice speeches and the long arm of the
law."
This is it, Zelgadis thought. This is what we were hoping to avoid. He
could see it in Amelia's eyes... she wasn't blinking. Her little mind was
working so hard to grasp this concept that it was forgetting involuntary
actions like blinking or breathing.
There wasn't much room in Amelia's world for the no-win terminal
runaround that was an anarchy. After all, the only law said there were no
laws, which meant they couldn't be enforced but not to enforce them was how
you enforced the law, which meant that etc. etc. etc...
"Look, let's get back to the ship, okay?" Zelgadis asked, snapping the
metal off his wrists completely. "We'll pay for your stuff and you can have
a nice hot chocolate and can take a nap until we have to leave. Okay?"
".................okay!" Amelia spoke, snapping out of it. "I
understand. Right! Let's head back for now."
"You okay, Amelia?"
"Fine, quite fine," Amelia said, with an adorable little smile. "Ha ha!
Everything's fine!!"
And everything was fine. Amelia picked out a few more items, they paid
for them in cash, and that was that. In a vague shadow of optimism, Zelgadis
hoped this would be the end of it -- he didn't get how Amelia was adjusting
so well to something that worked against everything she believed in, but
however it was working, he hoped it'd keep working...
Then he figured it out, when he spotted Amelia munching on a chocolate
bar as they walked back to the ship.
"I didn't see that in the shopping basket," he commented.
"I stole it!" Amelia declared, with the swelling pride she usually
reserved for her speeches. "See? I'm being a law abiding visitor. You and
Lina worry too much, I'm mature enough to understand things. I'm culturally
diverse and sensitive and stuff! Hey, you want a lollypop? I nicked a dozen
of 'em-- hey, look, an intersection! I'm gonna jaywalk!"
Zelgadis yanked Amelia out of the street before she walked into the path
of a passing horse cart. Terrific. Just terrific. This was going to be a
long day, and babysitting was DEFINITELY not his idea of a fun time.
[*]
Window shopping was not Lina's idea of a fun time. She failed to see
the point in walking around looking at things and going 'Oooh, I like that!
But I won't buy it.' She was a firm believer in capitalism and the system of
goods and exchanges -- unless she was able to get something for free, of
course.
Making this side jaunt doubly pointless was the fact that Gourry was
currently scheduled for a fistfight, not a swordfight.
"I know, I know," Gourry said, browsing the inventory. "But you
promised we'd go shopping for a new sword sometime, and we've got an hour or
two before dinner. Why not now?"
Lina poked the scabbard of a nasty looking scimitar, and actually dented
the cheap metal with a flick of her fingernail. "This is probably not the
best place to go looking for weapons, Gourry," she commented. "If any island
is going to be loaded with shady weaponsmiths, it'd be an island that's in
perpetual shade."
"But they've got a great variety!" Gourry said, hefting a blade off the
wall, testing its weight and balance. "And all sorts of cool powers. What
about that ice sword over there?"
"Hah! The spell on it is worn down. It's probably only good for fixing
up a glass of lemonade now--"
Speaking of auras, Lina felt a distinctly reptilian presence slide up
silently behind her. She resisted the urge to chuck a fireball at it in snap
reaction.
"You mean the Sure-Cool Rapid Fire Freezo Destruction Sword, miss?" the
sword salesman asked, stepping over to the wall and lifting it. "Why, to say
it's only good for lemonade is to deny its many fine features! Features such
as a sharp edge for added cutting power, a fine scabbard for ease of
transport, and a handle for tight directional control!"
"Yeah, but it tilts to the left because it's got that huge gash in the
side of the blade," Gourry said.
"Oh, that's not a gash!" the salesman covered. "It's a channel for your
enemy's blood to pour down so it doesn't stain the blade as much. ALL the
new models have that."
Lina threw up her hands in defeat, and made a beeline for the door.
"Gourry, I'll be outside," she said, pulling it open. "Don't spend more than
a hundred gold! What's left of the bag after Phinneas's cut has to last us
the entire quest!"
"Uh... actually, I was looking at this one," Gourry said, gesturing to a
massive weapon on the 'Used Goods' rack.
It was the sort of blade that was too large for practical use. If you
COULD swing it, it could probably cleave a brick wall, but it would take
three or four men to get any kind of momentum out of it. It wasn't suitable
for hanging on your mantle unless you had very durable walls. Still, it
worked great in intimidation factor, which often meant you'd never have to
actually swing it.
Gourry lifted the sword off the wall and twirled it once or twice to get
a feel for the blade. The WHOOSHWHOOSH sound of three hundred pounds of
razor sharp steel inches away from his face did a great job of causing the
salesman to break into a cold sweat.
"Ah... er... The Unequalizer buster sword?" he asked, recovering
quickly. "Excellent choice, sir. Superior armor penetrating potential,
leather stock handle, and optional Tru-Coat rust protective sealant. So...
what's it going to take to get this sword in your scabbard... today?"
"A discount," Gourry said, reading the price tag. "A big one, I think.
I can't afford three hundred gold."
"Don't think of it as a markup, think of it as... a mark of quality,"
the salesman suggested. "Fine craftsmanship, by the legendary Iacocashi!
Sure, it's a used model, but it barely got used! A little old lady would cut
apples with it every other Sunday!"
"Really? Wow, she must have been pretty impressive for her age."
"Ah... well, technically the hernia was the cause of her demise but I
assure you that we can put a small discount on the Unequalizer if that makes
you uncomfortable. So. Want to take it out for a test swing?"
"Oh, that's okay, it swings just fine," Gourry said, demonstrating
again. The bottom half of the salesman's tie silently fell to the floor.
"But I really can't afford this..."
"I'll knock off thirty gold if you stop swinging it, sir," the man
quickly said, while stepping backwards.
"Still not enough. Hmm. It's a shame; I'd like to have this, just in
case... I mean, someone might cheat in that fight tomorrow. I wouldn't want
to be totally unarmed."
There was only one fight that could possibly be 'that fight'. "You mean
the Mainev fight?"
"Yeah, I'm going to be in it," Gourry said, smiling and leaning on the
sword. "It's going to be some kind of three way fight, from what Lina
explained..."
Four thoughts occurred to the salesman:
1. This guy was able to LIFT that thing, thus making him phenomenally strong.
2. That meant that he stood a good chance of winning.
3. Which also meant that if he bet on this guy, he'd make a killing.
4. And one of HIS products would be endorsed by the new champion.
Gourry found his hand grasped tightly and shaken fast enough to blur.
"One hundred gold it is!!"
[*]
Hours passed. Not that one could tell on Dark Island; the sky directly
above went from blue to grey to dull black, but that was the only notable
change.
Eventually the dull glowing lights of the Lightfeather's portals were
the only things defining its shape against the crowd of sails and masts.
Most folks had departed their vessels for a good evening meal, a fast deal,
or fast women/men -- in contrast, Phinneas's crew was holding a war council.
(They weren't technically at war, but it sounded cooler than 'sitting around
eating and yacking about what's going on lately'.)
Lina scraped her fork and knife together, the classic gesture of "FEED
ME". Amelia was cheerfully going about serving everybody their steaks (only
Amelia could make beef taste like a candy cane) but had kept Lina's for last.
She could hold out another few seconds, at least... it gave her time to
evaluate crew morale.
Phinneas: Looking grumpy. He didn't seem real happy that she was
messing with the Mainevs this way, not in a way that could impact his
business with them. Eh, he'd live.
Gourry: Quite happy. Adjusting to wearing such a large sword proved
simple, other than needing to cleave the back off his chair to accomodate it.
Gourry had that odd look of content about him while toting that weapon.
Amelia: Happy, as usual. Something felt strange, though... Zelgadis had
briefly mentioned to Lina that she had snuck off the ship and there was an
incident. Whatever the incident was, it hadn't done much to dampen her
smile. If anything, she was smiling more...
Zelgadis: Mopey. Quite the norm, but something about the way he
followed Amelia with his eyes was unsettling... kind of like a store clerk
watching some thirteen year old punk who's loitering a little too long near
the candy aisle.
"So, to recap," Lina continued, having assigned a positive letter grade
to her crew's emotional state, "Tomorrow around lunchtime we're going to
fight to get that map piece. Gourry's volunteered at my insistence to take
on the two musclebound freaks who look like they could crush small animals
between their pecs, and we all should wish him the best of luck!"
"Definitely," Gourry agreed. "Lina, I told you, hand to hand isn't
really my thing... I CAN do it, but I'm not as good as I am with my sword.
Can't you make it a swordfight or something?"
"Vincent demanded a level playing field. The other two guys fight hand
to hand, so hand to hand it is," Lina reminded. "Don't worry, I spotted a
gym on the way here. We can go after dinner and you can brush up on your
fisticuffs. And that's the plan, folks. Any objections?"
Phinneas's feathers ruffled. "Other than ye potentially trashin' my
entire network of contacts to this island? Gosh, no."
"Be cool, Phin. Vincent almost seems to WANT us to win. I doubt he'll
go so far as to throwing the fight, but I think he'll be okay with this. As
for Vinnie or whatever his name is, you don't care about him, so it works
both ways. Any OTHER objections?"
"We should steal it!" Amelia cheerfully said, slapping Lina's steak down
on her plate. "We can bust in, blow away all the guards, set fire to the
place, swipe it and make off into the night!!"
Two instinctive reactions in Lina tangled for a moment -- the loosening
of balance's center that accompanies a big surprise, and the desire not to
wreck a perfectly good meal. She began a controlled collapse in a backwards
direction, so as not to upset the table or plant her face into her dinner,
and landed with more of a 'whumph' than a 'WHAM' as a result.
Naturally, she was up and on her feet less than a second later, and
staring in shock. "Who are you and what have you done with Amelia?!"
"Huh? I'm still Amelia," the younger sorceress explained. "I just
think I should do my best to fit in at this island and obey the local laws,
in the spirit of love and justice! If I don't embrace other cultures, how
can I expect them to respect mine? It's a very modern and mature view, I
think. Don't you agree?"
"...uh... so... in the spirit of love and justice you're suggesting
breaking and entering, assault and battery, arson, and fleeing the scene of
the crime?"
"Exactly!!" Amelia cheered, posing uber-mega-supreme-ultimate-grande-
dramatically. She even had little fans with skull and crossbones motifs.
"With all my heart and my pure spirit, I will crush anybody who gets in my
way and will steal the amulet so that we may complete my sister's quest!
TOOOOOOHH!!"
The cold, icy grip of fear locked around Lina's spine. Of all the
reactions she worried Amelia would have, this hadn't even occurred to her...
Across the table, Zelgadis shook his head slightly, adding a tiny sigh
as he caught Lina's eye. She knew what he meant; just go with it. This was
probably years of repressed childhood mischief bubbling to the surface like a
dead rat in an oasis. They'd have to make sure that while on this island,
Amelia didn't take it too far.
"Okay... I'll admit, I thought of stealing it," Lina said, working with
Amelia rather than against her. "After all, there's no guarantee we'll win
the fight tomorrow. I've got plenty of faith in Gourry's ability to
withstand crippling injury, but hey, nothing's ASSURED. It is kind of
violating Vincent's trust... he came clean with me about this, he didn't have
to set up a fight at all. He even said right out that I could probably maul
him and make off with it if I wanted to. I dunno, that was kind of creepy.
I'm used to facing guys who think they're all big and bad, not so...
doomsaying--"
"Screw trust!" Amelia chirped. "We've got to get ours while the
getting's good! Let's crash the party and make off with the swag!"
"It frightens me to admit it, but I agree with that sentiment," Zelgadis
spoke, contributing for the first time (verbally) to the conversation.
"We've got no reason to play fair here. It's means to an end--"
"It'll wreck my relations with the island, is what it'll do!!" Phinneas
squawked from his perch, having gotten too irate to keep silent any longer.
"Bloody hell, Lina, ye are NOT going to drag my life down with this crazy
plan!"
Lina frowned. This wasn't going real well, and the tension in the room
mirrored that... gone was the upbeat tone dinner had started with. Normally
she wouldn't object at all to smash and grab, but...
A throat was cleared, and a hand was raised.
"Yeah, Gourry?" Lina asked.
"I don't think stealing is a good thing," Gourry said, using small words
and simple sentences, but meaning each syllable. "I can't condone that. But
there's three real problems here. One, you said we can't just copy down the
paper 'cause it's, umm, magical and stuff, right? So we can't find this
island place without it. We've got to get it one way or another. Two, I
keep telling you I'm really not sure I can fight hand to hand here; I'm used
to hacking apart monsters and sword carrying bandits and stuff. Three... I
think we're actually obliged to take the amulet away from this island."
"That's... a lot of good logic coming from you, Gourry, much to my
surprise," Lina said. "But why do you think that?"
"I was listening at the door," Gourry said. "I heard what Vincent was
saying, and boy, he's not a happy man. He's right. There's nothing worse
than having everything you ever wanted. I don't think it's right that that
magical pendant thingy is messing up this island. One family shouldn't rule
over the place for a thousand years, it means all the little guys don't have
a chance. As for the other Mainevs... Vinnie is this guy's son, right? Kids
often want what their parents won't let them have. I doubt Vinnie really
understands what he wants here, and I know Vincent doesn't want the thing.
So really, if we want to do the right thing, we've got to leave here with the
map."
The table fell in silence. Zelgadis, thoughtful. Amelia, delighted
that she could steal it. Lina, boggling.
"...that's a pretty good ethical assessment, Gourry," Lina admitted.
"Oh, I don't think the color of your skin comes into it," Gourry said,
with a smile. "It's all about how people feel and what makes them go, right?
So how about if we do the fight like you planned, but we ALSO have Amelia and
Zelgadis go steal the amulet during the fight? Then if we win it won't
matter, and if we don't win we can leave really fast with it."
"I like this plan!" Amelia interjected. "I'm excited about it! Let's
go kick their asses and--"
"Do we want this map?" Zelgadis asked quietly.
Lina turned to him, confused. "What? Of course. It's the whole point
of the quest, remember? Without that, we're just a mismatched wacky band of
characters on a ship doing nothing in particular."
"I know, I know. I'm just saying... Look, Vincent doesn't want it, and
he's got good reasons not to," Zelgadis said. "It's brought him success, but
it's also brought him to a state of empty, meaningless despair. If this is
the real legacy of the Island of Mists, maybe we shouldn't be going after...
no. No, forget it. I want my cure, I know that for an absolute certain.
Sorry, talking off the top of my head there."
...and the last symbol of the five was 'But...'
"Let's focus on the here and now, okay?" Lina said, pushing that aside.
"Here's the revised plan. Gourry, you and I are hitting the gym after
dinner. Zelgadis, you and Amelia scout the Mainev house and plan the heist.
Phinneas... don't give me that look, I swear to you Vincent won't hate your
guts for this, no matter how it goes down. Are we settled? I haven't even
TOUCHED my steak, and it's probably getting... ... where's my knife and
fork?"
Amelia whistled innocently, and resumed cutting her steak.
[*]
Thousands have sought after the Island of Mists. If you ask any
seafaring adventuring type, they'd probably say they've gone after the island
once or twice... or that they're always going after it in general, without
getting anywhere. Because that's the problem; they don't get anywhere. To
date, nobody has had a solid clue that would even hint at the slightest
notion of the very thought of what the location of the Island of Mists
possibly could be.
To date. Dates change; time marches on. And as it marches on, so does
a pair walking right by the docks where Lina and company were chatting,
totally missing their boat and heading into the city proper.
She slipped the golden case from her inner coat pocket. It helped to
check it occasionally... to open the case, look at the ancient slip of paper
inside. It helped confirm her purpose in life.
"I've been getting side tracked, haven't I?" The Lady of the Mists
asked. "All this business with Lina, and us trying to cover the profit
margins..."
Kris looked up at her, puzzled as the captain had broken the silence in
which they walked. "Ma'am?"
"The Island, of course," the Lady explained, pocketing the case again.
"You know it's been my lifelong ambition. The finest prize, the ultimate
goal, the island of wishes, dreams and life..."
"There's really no solid information about it, ma'am. I've read
hundreds of theories and opinions on it, but other than your paper, there's
been no real proof it even exists."
"Oh, it exists," the Lady said, with a smile. "I know it does, I can
feel it in my bones. It's just a matter of the RIGHT person finding it, and
I am that person, Kris. We haven't been able to find the other pieces of
this map, but we will. Have no doubt."
"I don't doubt, ma'am. Whatever you desire, you get, after all."
"Ah, true, very true indeed!" the Lady boasted, her chest swelling with
pride. "Soon, my hull will be loaded with booty, I'll have humiliated that
Inverse woman, and the island will be mine! ...but first, we need a booster
from my cousin. I hate to admit it, but we lost quite a bit to Lina Inverse.
Without a loan, the boat will not be so comfortable in the coming days. You
remember the first days you were aboard, yes?"
"Yes, ma'am," Kris replied. "You were having a lull in business then
too. But you always recover. I guess your business is a little more stable
than mine was..."
"We're not far from there, are we?"
"One block that way, ma'am. But it's a boot repair shop now. I've
checked."
"But this is the same street where we first met," the Lady pointed out.
"Dark Island always brings back memories... albeit not always pleasant ones."
The Lady didn't notice it, as she was gazing wistfully at the stars, but
there was a distinct shiver passing over Kris. Not always pleasant
memories...
[*]
Routine encourages predictability. Predictability leads to comfort.
Comfort is ensured by safety. Safety means not having to worry about the
next guy who's going to stick a knife in your back or trash your storefront.
Thus, the true currency of Dark Island was safety. Not the 'protection'
offered by various smugglers (which invariably is a sort of insurance against
your insurers lighting you on fire) but genuine safety from harm... a rare
thing to obtain.
Kris was safe for most of her career on Dark Island because people were
afraid to accost her. She wasn't a fighter and she didn't know how to cast
magic. She didn't carry a weapon. The true fear one had from mugging and/or
attacking and/or otherwise doing something against Kris's wishes was that one
of her seventeen allies would give you cement overshoes once they found out.
As she walked home one night (several months ago) in the starlit
darkness (not that it ever got very bright on Dark Island), she was stalked.
She could tell she was being followed, and knew exactly who was doing it...
the same guy who had been following her around for the last three weeks.
However, he hadn't DONE anything to her yet other than walk nearby, so she
couldn't call in a 'favor' on him. Kris wasn't very concerned, however;
nobody on the island dared to violate her personal space, or even talk to her
funny. He could follow all he wanted. She was safe.
Looking over her shoulder, she noticed the stalker had left. All the
better. She took five steps, then bumped into him -- or rather, into his
broad chest. He didn't move an inch; she stumbled back nine.
"Boo," he said, smiling in amusement. "Scare you?"
Maybe now she could call in a favor, Kris thought. Get this man dealt
with before he went beyond 'scaring her'. She glanced about... the McArthur
Shipping Office was only a block away. They could--
"Don't bother," the man said, lighting up a fresh cigarette. The dull
red glow illuminated too much unshaven stubble, and too many teeth. "You're
thinking of heading to the McArthur's, right? You've got a sweet deal with
them. Discount on books in return for protection. And you're right, they'd
probably at least smack me around a little for this..."
"...yes, you're right," Kris said, trying to get some confidence back.
The only shield she had right now was her network, and she tried to put faith
in it, to act as tough as... well, everybody on the island except herself.
"I've noticed you following me, whoever you are. I--"
"Problem is... see, the Magical Disguise Guild... their guild leader
died tonight," the man explained. "Main man got replaced with his rival.
That means that the Parkinson Clan lost their alliance to them, which means
that the McArthur's no longer have the link they need to the Mainev Family
and they don't dare to move against the friend of MY friends, which are the
Damien Brothers from the docks... do you see where this is going, little
girl?"
Kris's mind flicked through her extensive internal catalogue of Dark
Island factions. The guy was right. That negated the McArthur's... and
indirectly at least four other groups. It cascaded down a few levels,
through succession and previously declared rivalries, until...
She didn't have any safety at all. By removing one card, the entire
house had collapsed.
"Ah, there we go," the man said, reading the look on her face. "You
see? I've studied you for awhile. I knew JUST who to kill to get rid of the
layers of protection around you..."
Kris didn't need to stick around for some lengthy exposition; she
twirled on one heel and bolted. Or would have, if the thug hadn't clamped
one hand around her entire upper arm, holding her back.
"Hey, hey! I'm not done here," he explained. "I love a challenge, and
YOU have been the most challenging person on this island to get to. An
otherwise completely defenseless little girl, who doesn't fit in with the
rest of the cutthroats and maniacs around here, but who nobody dares to mess
with! I went through a lot of research and risk to worm my way into your
life, and I expect a little appreciation for that!"
Kris fumbled at her belt, finding her moneypurse. She held it up -- and
had it smacked out of her hand in thanks. She found herself whirled around
through the air, and slammed against a wall; feet a few inches over the
ground, pinned there by a grip she had no chance of breaking...
She couldn't think of breaking that grip. The same thing kept echoing
over and over, playing back at high speed in her mind: she should have left
the island two years ago. After her father died. She should have left. She
shouldn't have tried to stay by herself in this horrible place even if it was
home. Alone, afraid, and desperately working to keep herself safe... and
now, in the end, it failed...
"Nobody's going to care if you disappear into the night," he said, voice
low. "It happens all the time here. All you have to do is show me I won.
You know, I've watched you and you never go to bars or flirt or anything like
the other women around here... now I beat your little game, and if you're
nice--"
There was a noise like a dull 'whumph' combined with a sharp 'crunch'.
At first, Kris assumed it was her neck... until she saw the man's eyes cross,
and a high pitched whine whistle out of his mouth.
His grip slackened; Kris wasn't so stunned as to not know an
opportunity. She dropped to her feet and rolled out of the way, prepared to
run, to jump a ship with what money she had and leave... but something made
her look back. A queer curiosity...
The combination sound echoed again, and this time she could see why. It
was the result of a shiny leather boot being firmly planted between the man's
legs from behind. After all, if you kick a man to bring him down, why not
kick him while he's down to be on the safe side?
This was a woman unlike any Kris had seen before. Most women on the
island worked the service industry or were administrative assistants to the
guilds... none dressed in the finery of a ship captain. She felt awkward
standing in the open during this interchange, and quickly skipped left to the
protective alcove of an alley opening.
"Speaking of people not caring if someone disappears into the night,"
the woman continued, looking down at the thug in contempt... aiming a small
pistol at him with unwavering stillness. "I myself would care very much for
you to disappear immediately. It would ensure your continued breathing. You
may give thanks to the White and Black Mainev Faction, if you're so concerned
about politics, but you'd be better off thanking The Lady of the Mists for
sparing your miserable life. After all, she's the one with the gun aimed at
your head, not them."
The man rolled onto his knees... and glared up with unending hatred.
"How... how dare you!? The Damien Brothers will hear of--"
Click. The gun cocked. "You put too much value in your friends," The
Lady explained. "I don't see them around. Do you? If you can't rely on
yourself, you are useless. Now... I'll give you to the count of five.
Four..."
Half a second later, he was gone. With a 'hmph' of disappointment, the
gun clicked back to a safe setting, and was holstered. She turned smartly on
one heel, and started to walk of...
"...excuse me..."
The Lady looked back. "What do you want?"
Kris stepped out from the alley... looking quite happy. "I... I wanted
to thank you. For saving--"
"Save it," The Lady spoke. "You rely too much on others. I know who
you are; my cousin has dealings with your store. I simply attacked him
because his face disgusted me. If you want my advice, take the first boat
off this island and never return. Not that you'd survive a trip to the
docks... he'll likely reach the dockside headquarters of the Damien Brothers
faster than you can run."
Satisfied with her free advice session, The Lady continued to walk along
the darkened road. At least, until she noticed she was being followed.
"...you have a ship, right?" Kris asked, when The Lady turned to her.
"A PIRATE ship," The Lady corrected. "Two and a dozen fighting men
dedicated to profiteering. You don't strike me as the pirate type. You
don't strike me as the type who's good for anything except playing the damsel
in distress--"
"I know all one hundred and seventy three factions on this island," Kris
said quickly in her defense. "I know their allies and their headquarters
including many of the hidden ones, as well as treasure dumps on the
surrounding islands. I've studied the entire Archipelago from its thousand
year history to the current state. I've studied books on sailing and
accounting and law and... and... I can cook a bit if you don't mind black
crunchy bits in everything you eat."
"...I don't need a chef," The Lady summarized.
"But anybody could use all the other things I know," Kris said, pressing
her case. Desperation set in, but she tried to keep a calm and professional
voice... not that it was working. "I may have to rely on people because I'm
not very strong but I'm very smart. That's worth something, right? I can
help you. I... I don't eat very much either, and it doesn't matter where I
have to sleep, I just... ma'am, I don't have anywhere else safe to be, and
you're really amazing and I don't know if I can survive getting out of here
alone..."
Pathetic, The Lady thought. A pathetic crybaby who is wholly unsuitable
for the life of piracy. Just another mouth to feed and a body to divvy up
the loot to even smaller percentages. Unrequired, unwanted. The Lady needed
nobody other than herself...
Which is why she was quite surprised that she accepted.
[*]
"I was waiting for you to screw up, you know," The Lady said, her memory
recalling to present time, now in front of the shoe repair shop. "I figured
I'd put you off at some safe haven such as Tree Island and be done with
you..."
"I think you'll agree I've been quite helpful, ma'am," Kris said, with a
little smile. "It's only been a few months, but... I've helped you research
the Island of Mists extensively. I'm an invaluable member of your crew.
Right?"
"I... will agree to that," The Lady said, her voice weakening slightly.
"It would be foolish not to. However, you are still quite helpless by
yourself."
"...yes, ma'am."
"You shouldn't be so reliant on me," The Lady said, resuming her
strength in statement. "Perhaps while we're here I'll ask Vinnie to have one
of the boys teach you basic self defense. After all, if you stop being of
use to us, I'm going to have to put you off the ship. Everybody pulls their
weight on the Highwater Serpent, even you."
"Yes, ma'am," Kris agreed quickly... although she knew it wouldn't
happen. As The Lady turned and walked off, with Kris bringing up the rear,
the young woman allowed herself a slight smile. Whether The Lady wanted to
admit it or not, they were inseparable now.
[*]
A few blocks away, in a run down gymnasium, Gourry was the eye of the
tiger. Or at least its left kidney.
The gymnasium wasn't very full; it was nighttime, and this was the prime
hour for getting business done, not for recreation. Still, the doors were
always open, since it was a public facility. Barbells and other pump-you-up
goodies were readily available -- anybody could walk in and use it for free,
as a service provided by some crime family or another. Of course, if you
walked off with a pair of twenty pound hand weights stuffed under your coat,
the hidden spies that were planted all around the gym to overhear any loose
lips speaking valuable secrets would ensure that you'd never visit again. At
least, not without your arms in plaster.
First aid wasn't sounding too bad to Gourry right now. His bruised
knuckles throbbed, as he waved his hands to shake some life into them.
Turning to face his manager, he asked the million gold question. "Lina...
WHY am I hitting this brick wall instead of the sandbag?"
"It's a more accurate depiction of your opponent," Lina said, coaching
effectively while enjoying an ice cream cone she'd picked up on the way.
(Even cutthroats and madmen enjoy dessert. They get all up in your area with
sharp objects if you laugh at them for wanting extra sprinkles, however.)
"This is all about visualization and endurance, Gourry. Become one with the
wall! Feel the brick, sense its breaking point. By punching the wall, you
toughen yourself up faster than hitting some wussy sandbag! You've got to
give 110%, Gourry! FEEL the burn! And stuff like that."
"Look, I'm not that great at math, but I thought it was impossible to
give more than a hundred percent of anything!" Gourry complained. "If I keep
this up, I'll be a wreck for when I have to fight tomorrow. I'll be wincing
every time I land a punch."
"Jeez, Gourry, you think I'm dense? We'll get Amelia to slap a healing
spell on you, give you a good night's rest and that's that," Lina said,
finishing up her ice cream. "Trust me. This one is in the bag!"
"Yeah, but walls don't hit back," Gourry explained, leaning against his
hated mortar enemy for support. "These guys will. What I could use is a
little sparring practice... brush up on some actual fighting."
"Zelgadis could probably take you apart, Gourry. He's got this little
edge we like to call 'stone flesh'. Amelia doesn't know how to kick ass
outside of her magic, and I don't think you want to grapple with a bird."
"I know, I know. Which means you're going to have to do it," Gourry
explained, shaking his arms loose, bouncing up and down a little. "Okay,
whenever you're ready."
"Eh?"
"I want you to hit me as hard as you can," Gourry said sincerely. "Come
on, before I lose my nerve."
The empty cone dropped out of Lina's hands. "Who, me?" she asked, doing
the 'Who, me?' pointing to yourself sort of thing. "But I'm a mere slip of a
girl!"
"...how can you say that with a straight face, Lina?"
"Hey, watch it, buddy," Lina growled... before coughing, and resuming
her feminine graces. "I'm far too delicate to get involved in some silly
fistfight. Besides, it's all a bunch of testosterone pumping brawling
nonsense, SO unworthy of my time--"
*bop* went Gourry's fist onto the top of Lina's head.
It wasn't a particularly nasty punch, but it was enough to trigger a
reaction, as she instinctively pounced, knocked him flat, stretched one of
his arms between her knees and torqued back on his head with her hands.
Only when Gourry was screaming in agony did Lina snap out of it.
"...like that," Gourry wheezed, getting his bearings again, and peeling
himself away from her. "I mean... jeez, Lina! You take out bandits every
day like that. You're lethal! How do you DO it?! I mean, you're so dinky!"
"Ah..." Lina said, slightly dazed and missing the potential crack about
her body. "It's just some stuff my big sister taught me. Basic self
defense, in a tight spot. I'm a sorceress, Gourry, not a fighter."
Gourry sat up, to be on eye level with Lina. "Yeah, but you're from
that crazy country where their idea of a lantern is a fireball spell! 'Basic
self defense' there would probably be a black belt in... in... well,
SOMETHING awful anywhere else in the world. If you can teach me that stuff,
maybe we'd be onto something!"
It was true, Lina thought. It'd take someone as simple as Gourry to
point it out to her. Lina never really considered herself to be a strong,
capable grappler who could take down people physically like stupid boys
would... and oddly, she DID do it quite often. It was easier than magic when
you were in an enclosed space, after all, and swords were annoyingly
tricky...
This just might work.
Cracking her knuckles and then discarding her cloak and swordbelt, Lina
got ready. "Okay, Gourry. It's a deal. I'll teach you a few moves, then
you can whomp those guys unconscious before they even get a chance to hit
back!"
Gourry got to his feet, dusting off. "Okay. So, what do I do first?"
"Unfortunately, I only know how to teach by example," Lina explained.
"First, you'll need to get ready to fall over again."
"What?" Gourry asked, before liquid agony shot up his leg, which Lina
was quite easily twisting out of his hip socket.
[*]
His eyes scanned the paper. No matter how many times he read it, he
still couldn't believe it. It was unthinkable. It was impossible. In the
entire history of the event, it had never been open to an outsider... it was
always a family affair. Unthinkable!
Vinnie was not shaking in fear, however. He was shaking in rage. His
body wasn't as built as his father's, so that rage came off looking like a
small dog with the shivers, but you could tell the emotion was there in
spirit. From the scraggly bristle of the beard he was trying to grow to look
mean to the wiry tendons of his arms, everything about him spoke of having a
supremely bad day.
Year in, year out he'd fought against his father, trying to control the
direction of the Mainev family... and the bastard had found a way to stop him
every time. Even when he split off from the family and inverted the crest,
to forge his own direction, Vincent Mainev had kept the most valuable part of
the empire away from him...
A knock at his office door didn't improve his mood. He hurled an
accounting book at the door, which should translate to his executive
assistant that he was far too busy to be seen. The door opened anyway...
Then he felt relief. Vinnie slumped back into his large, gotta be
compensating for something wing back chair, and smiled.
"Cousin!" he greeted.
"Cousin," the Lady of the Mists greeted, as she ushered her charge in.
"And I believe you know Kris?"
"First mate of the Highwater, yeah," Vinnie said. "Good to see you
both. Pull up a seat. You want any wine? I've got some sap wine from Tree
Island somewhere around here, a real good year--"
"We need money," the Lady spoke, cutting through trivial nonsense. "A
few thousand will do, and it will be paid back after a week of intense
raiding, I assure you. I intend to have no debts, even to family members."
Vinnie groaned. Tension was mounting again behind his eyes. "This
isn't a real good week for this, you know?" he said. "We've got the event
coming up tomorrow. If we don't get the amulet, we may not HAVE a few
thousand to give you. Business is bad, cousin. The Bastard has been having
all the luck, and we both know why."
"Really now, that's all superstition," the Lady dismissed, finally
finding a seat in a comfortable chair. "Cousin, I thought you were more
forward thinking than that."
"The record books don't lie, okay?" Vinnie protested. "You're right,
though. We're the new blood. WE are the new world order. His corporation
of centuries is not going to last... once we get the key to their success.
Then maybe we can have some real progress here against the blasted
millionaire's club-- but THIS, I don't like!"
He tossed the paper he had clenched in his hand on the desk. Ever
vigilant, Kris swooped in to fetch it, and carry it over to her captain.
Smoothing out the paper, the Lady of the Mists read aloud. "'Vinnie,
I've changed the event from a straight fight between your champion and mine
to a three way dance on a level playing field. I've negotiated with an
outside party with an interest in the amulet, and if you disagree, you're
free to skip your chance at getting what you want. Be ready. Signed,
father.' Outside party? An outside party shooting for the family treasure?
Preposterous. Who exactly is this outside party?"
"It gets worse," Vinnie said, rubbing his forehead, trying to stave off
the headache. "According to my sources, it's Lina Inverse and her gang of
thugs. The BANE of all criminal existence. Why in the hell is dad offering
up the prize to the likes of her?! I swear, he does this sort of crap JUST
to spite me!!..... what's so funny??"
The Lady bit back her chuckle, as she smoothed out the paper she had
just crushed in her hand again. "Oh... simply the name, cousin. Lina. Lina
Inverse is getting herself involved in Mainev Family White and Black
business..."
"There's nothing funny about it! I'm in up to my neck here, cousin!"
"I believe I have a shovel," the Lady spoke, lip curling into a smile.
[*]
Rising from the training mat, Lina wiped fresh sweat off her forehead.
It had been a great workout; she usually didn't get this tired after a fight.
It probably wasn't too late to hit a public bath before returning to the
ship, though, and her task was now complete.
"Okay, so I've shown you the Walls of Sairaag, the Sailoon Cloverleaf,
the Mazoku Clutch, the Zeifeilian Anklelock and my personal favorite, the
Crippler Crossface," Lina listed, counting off on the fingers of one hand.
"The Five Moves of DOOM should be more than enough to win tomorrow!"
"........." Gourry spoke, in a twisted wad of nightmarish pain on the
mat at Lina's feet.
"...I guess I overdid it a little," Lina admitted, rubbing a hand behind
her head. "But hey! You can still fight tomorrow! A little healing, a good
night's rest, that's all it takes!"
With a few gut-wrenching CRACKs as Gourry popped his spine back into
place, Gourry tried to reply. "Lina, I... ugh... there's NO WAY I can do all
those moves! I mean... it'd take months just to learn how to do them right
against a real opponent..."
"Really? Sis taught them to me in a few days."
Gourry sat upright, a feat which would be impossible for a lesser man.
"Listen, if one thing is becoming clear to me here, it's that YOU belong in
the ring tomorrow, not me!"
"EH?!" Lina barked. "Gourry, you expect me to let a bunch of hairy,
sweaty men put their hands on my precious body? I thought you were my
protector or something!"
"I think you could do a better job of protecting our shot at the amulet
than I can," Gourry said. "I'm not trying to dodge this out of cowardice.
It'd go against my warrior's code. But I also don't think I've got as good
of a chance at this than you do! I mean that, Lina. You're... well, you're
something else, alright. You can do it!"
Lina fidgeted. "But... I mean, come on, I'm just... er..."
"If anybody can give a thousand and ten percent and feel the burn and
all that stuff, it's probably you," Gourry said. "You could take both guys
out in under a minute. And if they try anything funny... I'll be right there
at ringside with the Unequalizer to back you up, I swear. I really think you
can do this, Lina. You're strong! How about it?"
Pride fought against humility, before Lina realized she had no humility.
"Well, of COURSE I can do it!" Lina said, flexing an arm and showing off
her complete lack of biceps. "I AM Lina Inverse, grappling submission
shootfighter extrordinare with a hearty side order of magical power! ...but
I'm not going out there tomorrow smelling like this. Head back to the ship,
I'm hitting the local baths. See yah!"
Gourry waved little Lina fans, cheering as Lina marched out of the
building with a near visible glow of ego.
Then he tried to take a step towards home, and realized he was still in
an amazing amount of pain. Fortunately, he could crawl very fast.
[*]
The problem with ego inflation is that most egos have leaks. It's not
something a card carrying egoist will admit to, but they do exist.
Soaking in heated mineral water (only the best for criminal mistresses
and molls alike, who fortunately were sparse on this side of the baths), Lina
Inverse relaxed and pondered the day's events. There were indeed a few leaks
in the ego, which no amount of Gourry cheerleading was going to patch.
Self doubt, first and foremost. She didn't doubt her ability to take
out guys twice her size, but she'd always done it in the heat of battle, on
impulse. Never in front of a crowd in a sporting situation. Girls don't DO
that sort of thing... she didn't have a whole lot of gender assumptions,
given girls also weren't supposed to routinely launch the Dragon Slave and
save the world and load up on stolen booty... but fighting like a boy was one
of the assumptions she'd quietly held onto. It became instinctive to just
ignore the fact that she was that damn good at this, since she didn't really
want to be thought of that way...
But Gourry was right. The objective was to get the map, and that was
the end of that. Whatever needed to be done could be done. Assuming the map
would even work out in the end...
Which was the other problem. She hadn't let the others onto it yet,
since it might deflate some hopes, but if the map really had magical
properties then she might have lost the ability to use them. Naga had a
piece of this map, and it went down with the ship... the ship she blew up
with a Dragon Slave without realizing she'd need more than a cheap copy.
During the course of the quest, she was going to have to study each bit they
collected, and try to reverse engineer the copy into an original.
Fortunately she did know a few things about creating magical goods, but it
wasn't going to be as cut and dry as everybody thought...
And finally, the leak causing her the most worry was Vincent's dire
words of warning. 'There is nothing worse than getting everything you've
ever wanted.' Isn't that what Lina was trying to do? The Island of Mists
had infinite wealth, infinite power, even the ability to bring back the dead.
Once you have that, you are set for life. Lina would be set for life. Every
time she thought of that, it echoed back to her days hunting bandits...
mindless days of tedium, no challenge, no fun, nothing NEW.
Lina was not going to give up the hunt just on philosophical grounds.
The Island HAD to be a good thing, had to be something she wanted and
deserved. Plus, there was more at stake here than herself, like Zelgadis's
cure, and Amelia's family obligation... but it was still worrying regardless
of her desire to toss that worry by the wayside.
Looking up at the stars through the narrow view of Dark Island's valley,
Lina contemplated her direction. Zelgadis explained that the Lightfeather
navigated by starlight, by tracking the constellations and figuring out
exactly where you are and where you're going from them. Lina would not be
averse to some kind of sextant for her life about now.
Soap would have to do. Lina resumed soaking, sinking down to her chin
as the soap floated by, and decided to let it all go. Just enjoy the bath,
head back to the ship, get some beauty sleep and they'd be done with this
tomorrow.
If she knew that someone was peeping on her, she'd probably toss that
soap with lethal accuracy and take out an eyeball. Even soft, blunt objects
like bunny slippers could become deadly weapons for her, a fact Xelloss knew
quite well, which is why he took care not to have her see him peeking through
the divider between the baths.
"You've got a fixation, don't you?" Kyle asked, slugging back another
bottle of rice wine, and setting the empty down on a floating tray. "We've
got no reason to come here, you know. It's not like our bodies collect dirt,
and I LIVE underwater. Last thing I care about is 'enjoying' being in water.
You just wanted to come to peep at her flat chest."
"Really now, Kyle, you think so low of me," Xelloss protested, settling
back down in the water. "I am simply observing our little bloodhound, and
her steps towards obtaining what we seek. Perfectly reasonable strategy.
And just FEEL this water! Between this and Mipross, I'd take this any day!"
"Water's water," Kyle shrugged.
"Oh, poo poo. You have no fun, do you?" Xelloss asked, pouting. "For
someone who acts so human, you should enjoy more human activities. You're so
bent on living your life, so live it and revel in that life! It beats
sitting around dormant in a cubbyhole in a Mazoku fortress until you're
summoned by an arrogant taskmaster..."
"Let me verify the schedule here," Kyle suggested. "Tomorrow she goes
and fights, we've got tickets in the eight row. Right? And they leave with
the map piece."
"Correct on all counts."
"Why don't we corrupt one of them?" Kyle asked. "The young girl looks
pretty easy to crack. If a human has to carry the map pieces, we could use
her as an inside agent, then she can deliver them to us when--"
"Lina would spot it a mile and a dozen away," Xelloss noted, fetching
another bottle of wine. "She's a sharp cookie. Kyle, now you're thinking
too much like a Mazoku. The whole smash and grab philosophy, peg the puny
humans now and make them do your bidding and so on. As your consultant I
advise you to let Lina's gang run their natural course. They will not
disappoint."
"I just don't like this, that's all," Kyle grumbled. "Leavin' things be
and not having an edge to control the situation. I don't play things so fast
and loose as that. I like to be assured of victory."
"We are assured," Xelloss soothed. "Tomorrow will be a glorious victory
for Lina, and for us. Wait and see. I predict a classic fight the likes of
which this island has never seen!"
+-----------------+
|P|A|R|T|T|H|R|E|E|
+-----------------+
So Joe Q. Bandit has had a busy day cutting purse strings, fencing
items, brokering deals for protection and revenge, eating greasy food and
wooing the local bar wench (who is selling information about him to a crime
conglomerate which will result in his doom one week from now). What's Joe Q.
Bandit to do for entertainment, when the day is done? Sit up all night
reading? Nuts to that.
It's a long standing tradition that every Monday night, the Mainev clan
hosts fights. Not only do they entertain the masses, but they drop money in
the Mainev coffers and feed the booming medical industry of Dark Island.
These are usually booked and promoted by Vincent Mainev, although Vinnie has
been trying to run competing shows with much poorer production values and
weaker talent. The two shows never meet... until that one special time a
year.
'The Event', shorthand for the Annual Mainev Faction Brawl for All, made
so much legitimate money that tourists actually visited Dark Island from more
law abiding territories just to see it. There would be undercard fights
between promising kids, the occasional flaming ring explosive table death
match gimmick, and at the top of the card... one on one for the family
treasure.
In today's case, that would be two on one. When word of that got out,
tickets were already sold out, so the existing tickets were either sold for a
ridiculous sum of money or given away for free to very persuasive
individuals.
Dark City Square Garden was packed floor to rafters; the area comprised
only of seats dwarfed the tiny rope-and-turnbuckle ring in the center, the
ring all eyes would be turned on. Already a few matches were done, with some
spectacular fights that only resulted in maimings once or twice. This was
exciting, but the main event was coming up... and the crowd was positively
FOAMING over it.
Xelloss waved a big foam hand, and a small pendant with Lina's face on
it, cheering like a mark. "Yaaaay! Bring on Inverse! If she can't do it,
well, how in blazes did she defeat Shaburanigdo? Come on, Kyle, chant it
with me. Li-na! Li-na!"
"Use-less! Use-less!" Kyle chanted, through cupped hands. He sat back
down, and grumbled. "I'd complain beyond that, but you've heard my
complaints already."
"You're such a spoilsport, Kyle," Xelloss whined, sitting down as well
and fetching his corn dog. "I swear, try to have a little fun and you bitch,
bitch, bitch. I for one grow tired of it. As your consultant, I advise you
to lighten up."
"You don't work for Deepie, okay?" Kyle snapped back. "Let me explain
something about Deepie. She's... she's a psychotic bitch, no two ways about
it. If you succeed, you MIGHT get a pat on the head. If you fail, you
become fishfood. At least Zelas isn't playing the role of Bipolar Bear, the
Adorably Unpredictable Mazoku."
"She can have her moments," Xelloss defended, and held out a bunch of
puffy pink stuff onna stick. "Want some?"
"Who's that?"
"What?"
"That. The guy sitting across the way in white. He hasn't cheered or
clapped or done anything except sit there, and he's not asleep. I thought
all these stupid humans are easily excitable."
"Eh, he's probably just lacking a sense of humor," Xelloss suggested,
managing to talk perfectly while chewing on whatever the pink stuff was.
"Sound familiar? Now hush, the big fight is coming up."
[*]
If Lina was going to do this, she'd do it with style.
Gone was her sorcerer's costume, and all the trappings that went with
it. No cape, no pretty shiny gem things, no sword. No explosive earrings.
Besides, she didn't need all that stuff; one frantic morning of shopping had
produced the PERFECT in-ring attire.
She had to ditch the soft boots she usually wore; they weren't suitable
for tight control and fancy footwork. Some nice black leather ones with
weighted toes replaced them, the perfect thing for whacking someone in the
yarbles (which was perfectly legal in this fight, she made sure). The tights
could stay, but pink wasn't a very intimidating color; instead, she went with
a set of harsh blood red tights. She was more of a 'spring' than a 'summer',
but hey, whatever works.
The fun part, though... the fun part was the shirt. She bought a basic
black shirt and some fabric pens, and drew nearly four dozen little nasty
bandits on it, each with a red X through it... except for the last two, near
the bottom. Next to those, she simply wrote 'You're Next'.
"It's actually a pretty accurate count," Lina explained, while tugging
on a pair of sweatbands for her wrists in their private locker room. (She
could have used the same locker room the Mainevs were using, but she wasn't
going to take this as far as to hang out with sweaty naked guys.) "I've
taken out that many bandit encampments since our last big adventure as a
group. These two wouldn't be any different, and when they see this shirt and
hear my name, the bandit scum will be shivering in their boots!!"
"I dunno, t-shirts aren't very scary," Gourry commented. He was a bit
pale and weak despite the healing and rest, and was here mostly for moral
support -- although he swore he could bail Lina out if things came to that.
Very knight in shining armor of him.
"It's all psychological edge, Gourry," Lina explained, doing a few quick
jumping jacks to warm up. "Besides, I know I'll win, so I'm gonna have some
fun out there! We probably don't even need Zelgadis and Amelia on the job,
but... can't hurt. How long until the fight?"
A faint bell ringing could be heard even in the backstage area, and the
roar of the crowd could probably be heard as far as Ordinary Island.
"About now?" Gourry guessed.
[*]
The crowd was getting impatient. Ring introductions had already given
for the first two fighters from the Mainev Black and White and Mainev White
and Black, but they weren't hooting and calling and yelling for those two;
they wanted the third opponent.
Of course, they were expecting Gourry to be signed, sealed, and
delivered; that's what all the revised posters were declaring. When Lina
marched out well ahead of Gourry, waving to the crowd and grinning, she did
NOT get the response she expected.
First: The Eerie Silence.
Then: The Mocking Laughter.
A building packed with criminals, thugs and assorted punks was not going
to cheer on some scrawny little girl in silly clothes. No, they were going
to shoot beer through their nose and roll around on the ground covering
themselves in drool as they laughed silly. The opponents in the ring were
going to do the same, but with an added dash of arrogant pride; if a LITTLE
GIRL was coming to the ring, it really was going to be a one on one fight.
And Lina? Lina's reaction was simple enough.
"FIREBALL!"
Suddenly the enclosed arena was now an open air arena, and people
weren't laughing anymore. A few referees stormed over to rebuke Lina for
that stunt, but she marched on to the ring, ignoring them.
Vincent Mainev, however, was not someone she could ignore. He was
waiting ringside, and clearly wanted an explanation.
"There's been a substitution," Lina explained. "Me for Gourry."
"I told you I want a level playing field, Lina Inverse," Mainev warned.
"You know my conditions."
"I'm going to fight normally," Lina said, smiling. "In fact, if I use
any power my opponent lacks, feel free to disqualify me, okay? I'll accept
that if you accept that."
Word from the crowd of officials and production staff who overheard this
exchange spread like wildfire; the girl wouldn't be using magic. It didn't
even need to be announced after that, as the few tentative chuckles were
enough.
Climbing up to the apron of the ring, Lina slipped between the ropes,
and bounced a bit in place to warm up. The bell rang... and the fight was
on.
Or rather, not on, as her opponents just sort of looked at her and
grinned. Granted, it was hard to see their teeth due to the bunching up of
muscles in their face.
"So, which one of you big boys wants to go down first?" Lina asked.
"See this shirt? See it?"
"This is a joke, right?" the shorter of the two asked. "If you're not
using magic, how can you possibly expect to beat us? Hell, girl, I'm STEEL
GOLD STEAM ODIN! I'm rattlesnake waiting to strike, and Odin 3:16 says I'll
AAAH OH GOD OH GOD STOP IT AAHHHH SHE'S GOT MY LEGS AAAAAAAAAAAH
AAAAAAAAAAAAAIEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..."
Lina released the hold, leaving Odin in about the same twisted position
she had put him in. His arms twitched occasionally, and his voice had gone
up three octaves. There was a spontaneous rustle of fabric through the
silent arena as every man crossed his legs in sympathy.
"That's how I'm going to beat you," Lina said, a bit after the fact.
She cracked her knuckles, and advanced on the other guy. "Any other
questions, or shall I resume?"
Axe Duggan's red and yellow tights became mostly yellow, with the
tiniest hint of brown.
"Please don't kill me," he whimpered.
"*EXCUSE ME!!*"
Eyes turned to the opposite side of the ring, where a scrawny guy with a
megaphone had just vaulted the railing. He signalled a T shape with his
hands to the ring, then turned to address the crowd.
"Excuse me, exCUSE me!" he continued. "But I'm afraid there's gonna be
another last minute substitution. You see, I'm Vinnie Mainev, the REAL force
behind the crest, and I'm PULLING Axe Duggan out of this fight!"
"You're Vinnie Mainev?" Lina asked, surprised. "I was expecting
someone... well, more impressive. What, did you not drink your milk and eat
your vegetables as a kid? You're a stick."
Vinnie twitched. He was about as good at absorbing those sorts of
comments as Lina was about accepting her breasts as small. "As I was
SAYING... clearly Axe isn't up to your speed, MISS Lina Inverse. I'd like
you to accept this substitution. Don't you want a REAL challenge? Or are
you too much of a COWARDLY LITTLE GIRL to take on ALL COMERS?"
Zipping along the ring, Gourry made his way to meet up with Lina.
"Lina, be careful!" he whispered up to her. "This guy's up to something.
Just go with the fight as is!"
Humility was suggesting Lina just maul Axe here and take the prize,
before it remembered it didn't exist. Pride knew exactly how to reply to
this.
"Does a fish swim? Does a bear pee in the woods? Do you speak with too
many capital letters? Of COURSE I'll accept!" Lina shouted, leaning casually
against a turnbuckle, looking really unimpressed. "Of course, it's gotta be
a fair playing field, doesn't it?"
"Oh, you bet it will be!" Vinnie called out, moving to avoid Axe, who
had vaulted over the ropes and was making a break for the exist before the
first word was out of Lina's mouth. "Ladies and gentlemen, the white and
black is PROUD to present their soon to be champion... THE LADY OF THE
MISTS!!"
"...?" Lina spoke.
[*]
Zelgadis wasn't surprised when he saw the roof of the nearby arena
collapse in a flaming blast. He just hoped Lina hadn't overreacted to
something. They needed calm, cool control to pull this off...
He tightened the rope around his waist, then licked a finger and
measured the wind blowing over the Mainev manor roof before realizing he
couldn't feel the wind through stone.
"Okay, you watch out for guards," Zelgadis instructed. "Just like we
planned. I'll slowly lower through this window, past the mirrored light beam
traps, grab the amulet from its glass case after turning the glass to powder
with a tight ice spell, and climb back up."
"That's really complex," Amelia observed.
"If anybody spots us, just jerk on the line twice," Zelgadis continued,
lowering his legs through the window, and grasping the rope. "We've got a
few other angles of approach we can use as backup plans. Here we go."
It wasn't unlike a few other thefts Zelgadis had participated in...
usually to get magic idols out of trap-laiden temples or nonsense like that.
The quest to find a cure had taken him down some very strange corridors,
figuratively and literally. This would be a cakewalk compared to the nastier
stuff he's survived. The key was to be in control.
Control, as he climbed hand over hand down the rope, careful to twist
his body and angle his head to avoid the light beams. Every moment was spent
in painful silence, as he worked his way towards the goal...
"Ringringringring," the alarm said.
What? He hadn't touched a beam. He'd gone over this six times in his
head, knew exactly what muscles to flex, and so on. How could the...
A small explosion below him clued him in. Cursing, Zel zipped down the
line, ignoring the beams. It was pointless to be stealthy now. When he
landed, Amelia was already brushing broken glass off the amulet and stuffing
it into a sack.
"I got it!" Amelia redundantly announced, waving the bag. "And it was a
lot easier than you thought it would be!"
Zelgadis smacked his forehead, a sound like two rocks clattering
together. "You set off the alarms! Guards will be swarming over here any
second!"
"So? We can take 'em out! We got the goods!" Amelia reminded, waggling
the bag more. "It's not like we can get arrested! Gee, Zelgadis, you were
the one who explained this anarchy thing to me, do I have to explain--"
"FREEZE!"
You do not hang around long enough to get a good look at someone yelling
'Freeze'. Instead, you move like a gazelle to get away from him. Zelgadis
scooped up Amelia into his arms, ran towards a bay window, and twisted his
body -- stone back shattering the window, protecting Amelia from the glass.
He plunged about ten feet, rolled to his feet, and set her down. No sweat.
Amelia wobbled a little, balance not quite together, as Zelgadis dressed
her down in a figurative sense.
"Amelia, in an anarchy, that means they can do ANYTHING they want to
you!" he tried not to shout. "We don't go to jail, we die! They've got
thousands of minions and goons and things and we're just two people. That's
how an anarchy works -- if you want to do something another person would
object to, you have to be ready to face the consequences. That's the REAL
law of Dark Island! Everybody gets along because if they don't, they KNOW
things will go badly! You can't run around doing anything you want and
expect everything to be hunky dory!"
Mumble mumble.
"What?"
"..m'sorry," Amelia mumbled, shuffling her feet. It was the same
gesture a kid would use when they got caught with the hand in the cookie jar.
"I just thought... I mean, I was trying to do the right thing and... and..."
All the fire went out of Zelgadis at that point. "Look... you're new at
lawlessness. I've had to live with it for a lot of my life, being on the
wrong end of justice. It's understandable that you'd make some mistakes, but
now we've got to go get Lina, get to the boat and leave before the Mainevs
hunt us down. Okay? I forgive you. Just try to think things out a little
next time you're up against a new situation."
"I should have... you're right," Amelia said. "I was too focused on
breaking the law to support the law, I didn't think--"
Three crossbow bolts jammed themselves into the pavement at their feet.
"Aaah!" Amelia shrieked, hopping into Zelgadis's arms and out again in
under two seconds. "You're right! We've got to go get Lina and split!!
What're we standing around for?! RAYWING!"
Speaking of thinking things out ahead, Zelgadis mentally smacked himself
for trying to do the whole 'You know, I've learned something today' thing
while people were trying to kill them. Everybody made mistakes, after all.
He cranked up the Raywing, and took to the air after Amelia.
[*]
% When a woman entered the ring this time, nobody was laughing. In part,
this was because Lina's little stunt show in crippling a man three times her
size had impressed them... but mostly it was because bookies were frantically
running around in the crowd trying to adjust bets to take into account the
substitution.
The Lady of the Mists, she of the five word name, had not bothered to
change into some snazzy ring attire. She wore her usual captaining gear,
which looked plenty stylish on her; she was the sort of person who could go
out drinking all night, fall into a mud puddle, get three hours sleep and
still look fabulous the next day.
Lina scratched her head, experiencing the sensation known as Extreme
Confusion. "It's you again? Whatsername, the Misty Girl or something..."
"I'm here to defend the honor of my clan," the Lady spoke, eyes
narrowing so coldly she could probably fix herself a nice iced tea from
fifteen feet away. "But most importantly... I am here to take revenge on you
for the humiliation you subjected me to, Lina Inverse! I shall--"
"Oh, a rival and/or enemy," Lina said, understanding immediately. "I
get it, I get it. Blood oath to seek revenge, follow me to the ends of the
earth, the whole thing... look, you may want to just drop this now.
Seriously. I tend to get a LOT of those, and they never get the best of me.
Martina, Naga, even that brat from down the street back home whose lunch
money I kept taking--"
"Advise your companion to step away from the ring, please," the Lady
said, ignoring Lina's tirade and adjusting her leather gloves.
"Gourry won't interfere," Lina said, leaning over to address him at
ringside. "Right, Gourry? It's okay, just take a few steps back if it makes
her happy--"
People don't glow without good reason, and the Lady of the Mists was
definitely glowing a pure white. She twisted her hands through an arcane
series of motions, and spoke two simple words under her breath... after which
the entire building rattled with the impact of her spell, a barely-visible
cube of white magic encasing the ring completely. A cube that luckily hadn't
cut Gourry in half, since he did step away.
"...um," Lina said. "You know magic?"
"An even playing field, isn't it?" the Lady asked, waving her hands to
hook the barrier spell onto an amulet she'd purchased at Bloody Dangerous
Island. New magic flooded her hands... a glowing orange ball, as familiar as
pointy hats and dusty books to any sorcerer. "Lina, I will defeat you with
your own pride and joy... magic! FIREBALL!!"
Lina didn't have time to stick up a defensive spell -- and besides, 'Not
Being There' worked better than any spell and cost her less of her strength.
Thankful not to be weighed down by a flappy cape and sword belt, Lina did a
nice tuck and roll to the left, the fireball screaming through the spot where
she used to be. It impacted against the cube... and evaporated completely.
Now she got it. The Lady had put up a very powerful white magic
barrier, not to protect herself, but to protect the crowd from their fight.
The spell was pretty well cast; not even the sound of Gourry banging on the
shield and shouting 'Lina!' in his adorably protective way could be heard.
Of course, the spell also kept Lina in the ring, which meant she had no cover
whatsoever. Terrific.
Lina whirled her hands over her head, working up a charge of crackling
electricity that would make a thunderstorm feel impotent. "I don't know how
you learned magic so fast, but it doesn't matter! I never let any so-called
rival walk over me. DIGU VOLT!"
Throwing out her palm, the lightning shot at the speed of nastiness...
and impacted. The Lady yelled out loud from the shocking impact, but had
grabbed a turnbuckle of the ring... the electricity grounded itself quickly
after, before it could do real damage. (Physics would say this was
impossible. Magic would tell Physics to get bent. The Lady's Hair would
also tell Physics that it was not going to muss or stand on end, no matter
what some silly universal law stated.)
It was enough to stun her, though, literally and figuratively. Lina
didn't let up, not being the sort to ease up and let her opponent relax.
Another quick twirl, and she threw her hands downward. "DILL BRAND!"
she chanted... and the mat rumbled briefly, before the turnbuckle the Lady
was holding onto exploded upwards. She impacted against the top side of the
magical cube with a meaty thunk, then fell back to the mat, and was not going
to move.
Now Kris was doing what Gourry was doing earlier; beating on the shield,
trying to call out to the Lady. Lina approached cautiously, not wanting to
get bagged while the Lady played possum, if she was--
She was. The Freeze Arrow shot over Lina's shoulder, as she was
expecting that sort of thing.
"Aren't you tired YET?" Lina asked. "I mean, jeez, a first year student
could have avoided that! You've got some neat tricks but no technique--"
Lina froze. Literally.
Now, THAT was incredibly stupid of her. It was a first year student
mistake. She'd actually paused and taken the time to rant at her enemy
instead of finishing the fight. As a result, she'd given the Lady enough
time to get off Dynast Breath, and now Lina was slowly suffocating inside a
large block of ice.
Part of her marveled that someone so clearly unskilled yet absurdly
skilled as the Lady managed to snap off such a powerful spell with very
little setup time. That part of Lina was very small. The larger part was
saying 'Okay, I'm trapped in a big block of ice, now what the hell do I do?'
Ice was by nature transparent, and the magical barricade was also
transparent. Lina could see The Lady get to her feet, and signal something
to the fight referee who had gotten stuck outside of the ring... and then
realized what was going on. She'd read up on the rules of the fight before
getting in the ring, and knew that knockouts were signaled if the opponent
didn't move for ten seconds. Lina was not going to be moving in the next ten
seconds. A clever way to win, but Lina did not like to lose. She just had
to figure out how to get out of this situation...
The silent screaming crowd was on its feet, on fire with excitement from
the magical brawl. Everybody was on their feet, Lina could see, from Gourry
to Kris to the ref to the Mainevs to the audience...
Everybody except one person. One person who locked eyes with Lina, and
then decided to move.
The small man in the white robes stood calmly, and stepped into the
aisle of the seating section... and then blurred, moving without walking
until he was up to the barricade. Gourry wasn't dense; he saw what was going
on, someone strange approaching, but it all happened too fast. The man
whirled a walking staff into the air, a scythe blade snapping into existence
on it, and cleaved a clean line into the magical barricade.
Which should have been impossible. It was designed to suck up any
shamanistic or black magic spells tossed at it. Blurring again, he flowed
THROUGH the line, and into the ring... scythe held high, looking quite intent
on cutting the Linacicle in half...
Just because today hadn't tossed enough surprises her way, Lina watched
as the Lady of the Mists knocked the blade's arc askew using a Flare Arrow,
saving her life in the process.
[*]
The situation was rapidly degenerating into chaos. Of course, what else
could a situation degenerate into?
Crowd panic had set in like hardened plaster, and people were starting
to flee the stadium. Nothing life threatening had happened yet, just some
weird creature/guy/thing getting involved, but the moment they saw the
impenetrable barrier get sliced open, the writing was on the wall. Things
were about to get ugly, none of them knew how to defend against a magical
battle gone awry, and they could just collect betting payouts later today if
the bookies survived.
"What the hell is going on?!" Kyle Kyrie asked, since it was just one of
those things you have to say when things like this happen. "Did you FEEL
that?!"
In the ring, the Lady had just saved Lina's life, distracting the man
with a Flare Arrow. The heat from the spell had melted Lina's prison, and
now everybody in the ring was too dazed to act... but that wasn't going to
last very long...
"It looks like a run-in to me," Xelloss said, calm as calm could be,
finishing off his corndog. "Someone's gotten involved in the fight. Oh
dear. This was most unexpected. Isn't that the fellow you were pointing out
to me earlier? What an unusual person."
Kyle stared at Xelloss like he'd just sprouted nine heads, six arms and
a prehensile sex organ. "Are you cracked? That guy is packing intense white
power! We've gotta bail!"
"What, are you afraid?"
"That's besides the point," Kyle said. "This mission is a bust, okay?
That guy probably is going to tear Inverse apart, and there goes your master
plan. We've got to fall back and think of something better--"
Kyle's senses tingled. Black magic was being used; a powerful spell.
He turned his eyes back to the ring, where a black mist had filled the cube,
completely blocking its contents from view.
"I told you she was resourceful," Xelloss chided. "Just sit down and
watch the show. Turn on your obfuscation if you're so worried, they don't
have to see us here but I refuse to miss this fun. Now, the REAL fight
begins!"
[*]
The Lady waved her arm through the thick black fog, puzzled. Last she'd
seen was Lina doing some hand motions she didn't recognize from the summary
list of spells Kris had taught her... and then everything went black--
A hand grasped her shoulder, and she twisted around to throw the person
off her person. It didn't work; the figure clamped on tight.
"Cut it out!" Lina's voice hissed. "It's just me. Talk quietly, the
fog muffles sound a little."
The Lady relaxed her grip... but only slightly. "What have you done?
What is going on?" she demanded (quietly). "Who is that person?"
"It's a Dark Mist spell, I have no idea what's going on, and I don't
know who that is," Lina said. "But he seems to want to kill me, and he's
using a magical weapon to do so. Now, you could bail and leave me in his
'clutches', but you want to end this fight against me to prove yourself,
right? It's the rivalry thing. So, we're going to have to call a temporary
truce. Deal?"
"...I suppose I must," the Lady said, silently impressed at Lina's
sizing up of the circumstances. "But I don't know of any spells to assist
here. Kris only got through twenty pages of the book before I got bored."
"The mist will stay in the shape it's in," Lina said. "All you have to
do is kill the barrier you set up, and we run. Run VERY far and very fast.
He'll plod around a bit looking for us but we'll be gone."
"That seems rather cowardly--"
The mist parted, and there was a brief flash of glowing steel mere
inches from their eyes.
Quickly waving her hands, going through the motions twice because she
bungled the first, the Lady collapsed the shield. Feeling them go down, Lina
turned and bailed, taking first opportunity to run through the darkness...
...and off the ring apron, into the light, and falling on her head.
Yes, a flight spell would have been a good idea, she thought. This was NOT
her day for avoiding those first year mistakes, was it? Gourry was running
over to check on her, as she stared up at the hole in the arena ceiling, head
swimming from the bump she took to the floor...
Oh, look, there was Amelia and Zelgadis. They had the amulet so the
theft must have worked, Lina thought, her mind disconnectedly floating from
image to image. Gourry was shouting something. It was like a chain, wasn't
it? One link to another, one mistake to another. You drop the ball once,
you can trip while trying to pick it up. It just seemed so silly to be done
in while in a magical fight, that wasn't like her... Vinnie Mainev demanding
the referee issue a ten count while Lina was down, two bodies coming soaring
out of the black cube...
No -- focus, focus. She'd be dead if she let her dizziness overtake
her. There was a brief wave of relief, as Amelia was apparently by her side
doing a quick Recovery spell, field medic style -- that would help. Lina
shut her eyes tight, gathering everything back together, and then only opened
them when she was ready to do something about this mess.
Eyes now open, she could see the Lady of the Mists had been thrown out
of the ring and was down; ankle twisted, it seemed, as she was clutching it.
The scythe-wielding crazy was standing over her, clearly ready to lop her
head off. So he wasn't just after me? Lina thought...
Getting quickly to her feet, Lina got ready to blast the weirdo when
Gourry beat her to it.
Nobody had seen Gourry really using his sword yet. He'd shown it off,
and it was very big and very impressive, but it hadn't seen actual combat
yet. When he whirled that thing through the air, missing the Lady by inches,
neatly hooking under the blade of the scythe and using the swing momentum to
hurl the attacker's weapon straight up through the hole in the arena ceiling
at incredible speed, it became clear it was not a sword you wanted to mess
with.
Then Gourry whirled the sword around his body, twisting the angle and
using the unstoppable power of the blade to neatly cleave the guy in twain,
which did not work since the attacker caught the blade perfectly between two
fingers, stopping it instantly.
His hood had been tossed back from the impact of the blow, however...
and those were eyes that said 'I won't fall for the same trick twice'. He
grasped the blade of the Unequalizer and casually threw it and Gourry over
his shoulder, Lina having to step aside to avoid getting hit by the blonde
swordsman.
And the attacker paused when he saw Lina. It wasn't long enough for
Lina to use a spell, but it was long enough for Lina to realize two things.
One, he had pointy Elven ears, and two, he wasn't actually looking at HER...
he was looking at the very frightened Amelia. Then a glance to the fallen
Lady (who was being attended to by Kris), and back at Amelia...
He held up his hand, snatched the scythe from the air without looking
when it fell straight down to earth, blurred, and was gone. Which was good,
because Zelgadis was about to lay into him with his own sword -- the blade
whisked through the air, catching nothing. The fight was over.
Everybody just sort of stood around. Time tended to compress hectic
actions and events into a dense wad; time was uncompressing now, resuming
normal flow, while people got their bearings. Nobody decided to say 'What
the hell was that' since it had been said enough times for the day by various
people.
The Mainev family guards picked that moment to burst in through the
arena doors, swords drawn, and demand the surrender of the amulet.
"HALT!" the captain shouted. "The young girl and the demon have stolen
the amulet! Surrender in the name of the Mainev--"
"Whoa, whoa!" Lina out-shouted, waving her arms. She had just come out
of a very unpleasant mess and had no intention of diving face first into a
new one. "The fight isn't over! REF! You never got a ten count on me or on
the Lady, right?"
The shellshocked looking guy in the white and black striped shirt took a
few moments to notice he was being spoken to. "What? Huh? Ah... no, not
really... err--"
"Everybody stay back!" Vincent Mainev called, taking control, issuing
the orders to his guards. Now that the insanity had passed, this was
something he could handle. "The amulet will go to the winner of the fight,
and that's final! Nobody's stealing it, so there's no need for your men.
They were just... bringing it here at my insistence to have it ready to award
to the victor. Someone ring the bell and get this fight resumed!"
Thank you Vincent, Lina thought. Cracking her knuckles, she got ready;
the Lady was down and hurt, so this would be over in a flash. Sure, it was
poor sportsmanship to kick someone when they were down, but she was going to
WIN this... this...
Lina skidded to a halt, when she noticed Amelia was busy casting a
healing spell on her opponent's ankle.
"HEY!" she yelled. "Who's side are you on, anyway?!"
"It wouldn't be fair, Lina!" Amelia replied. "In the spirit of love
and--"
"Picked a lousy time to get law abiding again, Amelia," Lina grumbled.
"There you go," Amelia said, cutting off the spell when she could tell
the injury was completely healed. "Good as new, miss!"
The Lady flexed her leg once... and gave Amelia a close look, just as
surprised at this as Lina was. "You... you have my gratitude," she
expressed. "Thank you, AmelIAIAAAAAGHHH!!!"
In the blink of an eye, Lina was all over the Lady like white on rice,
wrenching back on her head and arm in the Crippler Crossface. It only took a
few seconds before the Lady had passed out from sheer agony.
The ten count became merely ceremonial, and the bell rang. Lina let go
of the hold, getting out of the way before Kris could knock her over rushing
to the Lady's side.
"The winner, Lina Inverse!!" the ref declared, right before he ran for
the nearest exit.
Vinnie Mainev's jaw dropped like a rock. "WHAT?!! No! She can't win!
There was interference! It was a screwjob! You set me up, dad! She can't
take the amulet!!"
But there Vincent Mainev was, taking the family prize away from
Zelgadis, and passing it over to Lina. "It's the referee's final decision,
son," he said. "This is the end of the Mainev's fabled luck. Lina won this
fair and square."
"Yeah, well... well... she's not getting off this island alive with it!"
Vinnie declared. "I've got a whole fleet ready to hunt her down like a dog!
Mercenaries and loyalists who'll hunt her down every street, every alley--"
Now Vincent's ire was up. For an old guy, he really could loom and look
muscularly impressive when he wanted to. "You do that and the Black and
White will stop you, Vinnie. You want a real civil war? You want to take
care of this problem outside of some silly yearly fight? You'll get what you
wish for, Vinnie, just like I have for all these years with that damn amulet!
GUARDS! Sieze him!"
"Wh--" Vinnie managed, before the guards who were going to tackle Amelia
and Zelgadis opted to tackle the younger Mainev instead.
"Uh... guys..." Lina said, feeling a little awkward here.
"This has been a long time coming, Lina," Vincent spoke to her, not
taking his eyes off his son for a moment. "We've put it off and put it off
with this annual event, but it's time for the Mainev family to prove it
deserves to stay on top... or fall trying."
"I think I'll just exit stage left," Lina spoke, taking a few steps to
her left, signaling for Zelgadis to pick up the unconscious Gourry. "I try
not to get involved in family affairs, you know?"
"Get to your boat fast and get out of here," Vincent warned. "Dark
Island is about to get dangerous. Hurry. And Lina?"
"Yes?" Lina called out, having already gotten to the exit door before
Vincent suggested she do so.
"I don't know what you did to piss off the Death's Door and its captain
Mortimer, but I suspect I'm in less danger right now than you are," Vincent
said, adding the sardonic smirk to accent. "Best of luck to you."
"Who?"
Explosions sounded in the distance. However word managed to get out, it
had gotten out; the Mainevs were now officially at war.
"Time to go," Zelgadis spoke before ushering her through the door.
[*]
The Lightfeather moved so fast that it barely clipped the top of one
wave before it was clipping the top of the next one. Smoke rose from the
naturally walled valley of Dark Island behind it, smoke of alliances breaking
down, of the whole carefully arranged mechanism of trust and mistrust going
ballistic.
Kyle squatted on a rock at the top of the wall, having a smoke and
considering it all. He was watching the boat; Xelloss was very entertained
watching the war below, on the other side.
"This sort of thing happens all the time to her," Xelloss continued, not
taking his eyes off the carnage. "Chaos and destruction trails behind her
like goldfish feces. You shouldn't be so surprised."
"I'm not surprised. I'm pissed off," Kyle corrected. "I can't believe
I'm actually sitting back and letting someone this volatile be our knight in
shining armor. I don't like the lack of control we have here, Xel. Like
that freak in white! I should've just done my research instead of relying on
a bloody consultant, maybe I'd be ready for that kind of thing..."
"Nobody can 'be ready' for Mortimer. He's just as erratic as Lina is,
albeit with a twisted kind of logic," Xelloss said. "Particularly when the
Entrusted are involved. He... Kyle? You're invading my personal space
again."
Indeed, Kyle was nose to nose with the smiling Mazoku. "Who...
exactly... is 'Mortimer'? And why didn't you tell me about him when I
POINTED HIM OUT IN THE CROWD?!"
"Ah... that is a--"
"You're fired," Kyle said, stepping back. "I told you not to keep a
secret from me, Xel, and you're playing games again. Whose agenda are you
here on, mine or yours?"
"I serve the glorious purpose of the Mazoku," Xelloss reminded. "Just
as you do."
"And you don't directly lie very much, do you?" Kyle asked. "But still,
I don't trust you. I never trusted you, but I trusted you enough not to
screw me over. I don't think I can do that anymore. Get out of my sight,
Xelloss. I'll handle this mission myself."
Without opening his eyes, Xelloss simply pouted at Kyle, and put on his
most petulant voice. "As your consultant, I really think you're making a
mistake, Kyle--"
"You're not my consultant anymore," Kyle said, stepping up to the edge
of the rocky outcropping. "Maybe one day when you've matured enough, you can
have your people call my people and we'll do lunch. Until then, this fish
swims solo. Goodbye, Xel."
The Mazoku jumped, and splashed down into the water a few thousand feet
below. Xelloss didn't bother to watch him go; he simply let out a little
sigh, and waved some of the smoke from the war below away from his face...
and smiled.
It had been a truly wonderful day. Now, he could take care of business
without dragging around that lead weight. Of course, Kyle would still have
to pay the price for the consultant work done to date... but that could wait.
It could wait for a more opportune moment.
Xelloss stood, dusted off his robes, and faded into shadow.
.-------------------------.
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