Slayers Fan Fiction ❯ Flam Gush ❯ Chapter 5

Flam Gush 5

“Wow,” Gourry said in surprise. “It's a lot bigger than I thought it would be.”

The “it” in question was the town they saw from the rise in the path. After polishing off the remains of the food Lina had pilfered from the village near Deremar's keep, they had decided to head over to the next village, get a decent meal, a decent room, replenish their supplies, and hopefully get some information. They had simply followed the path from their campsite, which had shown very little evidence of use, leading them to believe that they were going to end up in another small village. Neither “small” nor “village” were words that aptly described what they saw below them.

Clearly, they were approaching from an unusual direction. The path was little more than a game trail, although Lina could tell that at some point in the past, it had led to a gate in the city walls below. The gate had since been locked shut, and looked as if it had not been used in years. The town itself was rather large, and there was a good deal of traffic moving on the road on the other side, which looked to be the main entrance.

“You know what this means, right?” Lina asked with a bright smile. “We can finally get a real meal! C'mon!”

They both broke into a run, but it still took a good twenty minutes until they reached the unused gate.

Gourry pounded on the wooden doors with the hilt of his sword, although Lina seriously doubted that it would produce any results. After a few moments of nothing happening, he leaned against the stone wall. “How long do you think it'll take to get around to the main gate?”

“Who said anything about going around?” Lina asked innocently.

“It's really a nice day for a walk,” Gourry suggested nervously as he edged away from her, “and I'm really not all that hungry just yet . . .”

“Levitation!” Lina floated over to Gourry with a wicked gleam in her eye.

“Hold on, Lina, can't we talk about this? I'm sure it's not too far to just walk—”

Lina interrupted him with a firm kiss, placing her arms lightly over his shoulders. Gourry tried to resist her at first, but only half-heartedly. It really was quite pleasant to kiss him like this, floating just at his level. There was no need to crane her neck up at a crazy angle, and Gourry could stand up straight instead of having to stoop down. Her initial plan had been to lull him with the kiss, and then levitate him over before he could protest. She changed her mind however, when something occurred to her. She had always just carried Gourry—or he had clung to her—but she had never actually tried to levitate the two of them specifically, just herself and the extra weight. The idea had a great deal of appeal, but if she wanted to try it, she had better get to it. Their kiss was getting increasingly less chaste by the moment, and she might not be able to split her attention if this kept up.

Levitation was really just a matter of manipulating the air around her, making it support her weight. Now, she focused, trying to get the air to support Gourry as well, so that he could feel the same way she felt: buoyant and supported, rather than a dead weight only held up by the strength of a grip.

It took a bit more concentration than normal, but it seemed to be working. She broke off the kiss, opening her eyes to check on their progress. They were actually quite a bit higher than she had thought, and she focused on getting them lower before Gourry looked down.

No sooner had she thought it, she could feel him tense up. Lina wrapped her arms around him, noting absently that it was a great deal less comfortable to do when he was wearing his armor. “Trust me,” she said softly.

She sensed more than saw his nod of assent, albeit after a rather lengthy pause. At least he was making the effort to stay calm. Just as his feet touched the ground, she looked up into his eyes, and at that moment, she had the strangest sense of déjà vu.

“Lina.” Gourry took a deep breath, and then he grimaced. “How come you never did it that way before?”

“I never thought to do it that way before,” she replied with a shrug as she released her hold on him. “I wasn't even going to do it this time, but the idea just suddenly came to me, and I thought I'd try it out. How did it feel?”

“Weird.”

“Weird,” Lina repeated in a flat tone after a brief pause. “I should've known better than to ask Jellyfish here to comment on a spell variation I came up with specifically for him . . .”

“Okay,” Gourry interrupted, “It felt different, kinda like floating . . . and kinda familiar too . . .”

“You thought so too?” Lina was about to ask him how it felt familiar, but she never got the chance. Just then a figure burst from the shadows, bumping into her. She staggered backwards, hissing as she felt a slice of fire run from her waist to her ribs. The pain was accompanied by a wet tearing sound and then jingling as her purse hit the ground. Lina had barely time to realize what was happening when the dark figure scooped up her purse and stared fleeing up the deserted street. Without pausing to think, she chased after him.

Whoever the thief was, he was fast, and he also had the advantage of knowing the terrain. She could hear Gourry running just behind her and the steely hiss of his sword being drawn out of its scabbard. The thief ducked into a side alley with a burst of speed, and Lina just barely made the turn after him. She pressed her hand against her side as she did, trying to ignore the burning.

She could see him just ahead of her, but Lina knew she had to catch him soon or he would get away. Already she was starting to feel lightheaded and just a touch nauseous. Not enough to deter her from reclaiming her stolen property, but it was significant enough to distract her, ever so minutely, from the pursuit. Lina sped up and launched herself at the thief in a flying tackle aimed at his knees. She managed to catch him, but as they both fell to the ground, his boots kicked her in the gut. It was too much, given the fact that she was already feeling on the queasy side, and Lina felt her meager breakfast coming back up, all over the would-be thief's backside.

“That's original,” Gourry commented mildly as he retrieved Lina's stolen purse from a rather green-looking young man.

“Shut up,” Lina replied weakly while she focused on suppressing the urge to retch again. She crawled away, trying to put some distance between her nose and the sharp acid smell that permeated the alley. It was part urine and part rotting garbage, overlaid with the tang of her vomit. Despite the fact that she was on her knees, she felt decidedly woozy, but also like she was not getting enough air.

She tried to stand up, in an effort to get away from the disgusting smell of the alley, but her legs just refused to obey her commands. She could just barely hear Gourry calling her name over the ringing in her ears, and as she looked up, everything around her went black. Her last thought was overwhelming annoyance that anyone would ever see her like this.

*******************

Gourry watched Lina crawl away from the thief with a growing sense of alarm. She was moving sort of aimlessly, and despite the fact that she was already on her hands and knees, she looked like she was about to keel over any moment.

The thief behind him started muttering about his rotten luck and pulled out a rag to wipe the worst of Lina's mess off his pants. He finished just as she collapsed, and he hurled the rag at her. “Enjoy the smell, bitch, for what little time you have left,” he spat out in a voice tinged with both disgust and satisfaction.

Within a heartbeat, Gourry had his sword leveled at the boy's throat.

“Man, you don't have time for heroics.” The thief stood very still, but if he was afraid, he masked it well. “She won't last long unless you get her to a healer soon.” Then he snickered.

Gourry risked a quick glance at Lina and concluded that the boy was right. Her color was very bad, almost ashen grey, and her breathing was shallow and fast. There was also a dark crimson stain, barely visible, spreading across her tunic. Before the boy could move, Gourry returned his attention to him. “What did you do to Lina?” He demanded in a very quiet voice that promised violent retribution.

For the first time since his capture, the boy blanched, looking decidedly unsure of himself. “You wanna stand here jabbering away while she dies?” He asked in a voice that was going for nonchalant bravado but wavered towards panic when he felt the cool steel of Gourry's sword kiss his throat.

“If she dies,” Gourry stated in that same quiet voice, “I promise your life won't be worth living.” He pressed his sword in closer, drawing blood, and he had the satisfaction of seeing the kid wet his pants. With that, he lowered his sword and moved over to pick up Lina. She was cold and clammy to the touch, a fact that concerned Gourry far more than if she had a fever. He picked her up gently, cradling her in his arms. He spared a glance at the kid he had humiliated—no danger there, he was still cowering against the wall—and started moving quickly towards the center of town.

With each labored breath Lina took, Gourry tried not to panic. As long as she was breathing, there was still time. But, he had only a vague idea of what was wrong with her, and he had absolutely no idea where to find the nearest healer, or any healer for that matter. Between watching his footing and monitoring Lina's condition, he kept his eyes peeled for a temple or an apothecary, or just someone to provide directions. They seemed to be in a deserted section of the town, which would explain why a thief was bold enough to attack them in the middle of the day, but did nothing to help the current situation.

Gourry stopped walking for a moment and stood quietly, cradling Lina. He closed his eyes. They were not helping at the moment, because all he could see was empty buildings and empty streets. This side may be deserted, but at some point, that should change. They had seen all the traffic entering through the main gate, which meant that this town still had life in it. He just had to find it. So he used his other senses. He listened for sounds of activity. For horses drawing carts over cobblestone streets. For people chattering as they went about their business. He sniffed the air for any smell that would indicate human habitation, whether it was freshly baked bread or fresh garbage, anything different from the stale smell that just barely clung to the abandoned buildings around him. Within moments, he knew which direction he needed to go.

“Hold on, Lina,” he murmured into her hair. “Just hold on a little bit longer.”

Sooner than he dared to hope, Gourry emerged from a cramped and narrow alley and into a bright square bustling with people and activity. He walked up to the first vendor he saw, a young man about his age hawking a bright assortment of silk scarves tied to a long stick. “Excuse me, but I'm looking for a healer.”

The scarf vendor glanced up at Gourry and then his gaze shifted to Lina. His expression went ashen, and he whispered, “Lina?” as he stretched out his hand to tenderly stroke her hair.

“She needs help now,” Gourry grated out, his voice sounding harsh and unnatural to his ears, as he tried to quell a surge of jealousy. Such things could wait until he knew Lina would be safe.

Without hesitation, the young man looked up at Gourry, his eyes shadowed with worry and something else. “Follow me,” he said shortly. “Hurry!”

Jealousy aside, Gourry felt that he could trust the young man, so he followed him across the square and into another alley that was marginally less dark and dirty than the one he had just left. Part of him wanted to demand answers. How did this stranger know Lina? The other part was grateful that he had found help so quickly.

About halfway up the alley, Gourry's guide turned and bounded up a short flight of stairs and flung open the door to a modest looking apartment. Although from the outside, there was nothing to distinguish it from any of the other apartments that line the alley, once the door was open, the sharp smell of herbs indicated that they were in the right place.

“Shella!” He shouted. “Siebert!”

A young girl who was intently focused on whatever she was grinding with her mortar and pestle looked up in shock when they burst through her door. “Ryan?”

“Shella, hurry!” Ryan gestured at Lina. “Get your Da!”

Shella took one look at Lina and she rushed off into the back rooms. Ryan glanced over his shoulder at Gourry. “This way,” he said tersely, and he led Gourry into a small room with a simple cot in the middle. The scrupulously clean surroundings and the acrid scent of herbs gave him some small measure of comfort. At least they were in the right place.

While Gourry laid Lina on the cot, Ryan started pulling out assorted jars from a small cupboard at the side of the room. He then darted out of the room, muttering under his breath. Gourry knelt by Lina's side and grasped her hand, which was ice cold. Her lips were turning blue, and she was still breathing shallowly. Every so often she would start to gasp, like a fish out of water, but then her breathing would go back to its previous state.

“What happened to her?” Gourry looked up to see an older man standing in the doorway to the room. He was heavyset, with light brown hair just beginning to gray at the temples. He quickly walked over to Lina, glancing at the gaping wound in her side. “Ryan,” he bellowed in a deep voice, “get me some clean water. Now!” He sniffed Lina's breath, and laid his ear over her chest. After his initial examination, he looked directly at Gourry. “My name's Siebert, and I'm a healer. Can you tell me what happened?”

“She was attacked by a cutpurse,” Gourry said shortly.

“Tell me everything.” Siebert's brow furrowed and he laid his fingers gently on Lina's throat. “Don't leave anything out, no matter how small the detail seems.”

As clearly as he could remember, Gourry related the sequence of events, describing Lina's chase after the thief and how she had finally caught him. He had just finished when Ryan rushed back into the room, carrying a water pitcher and a basin. The older man started to wash his hands while Ryan held the basin. “Did she cast recovery at all?”

Gourry shook his head. “No, I don't think so.”

“Are you sure?” Siebert finished his ablutions, and quickly coated his hands with something that looked oily and red.

“Yeah.” Gourry thought back. “She didn't have time. Right after the cutpurse attacked, she chased after him. I'm sure she didn't cast any spells. Why?”

The healer heaved a sigh of relief, but he offered no answer to Gourry's question. “Ryan, go tell Shella I need her, and get me some crushed burago flowers.” When Ryan just stood there, his mouth agape, the old man barked out, “Don't just stand there! Get to it!”

As Ryan scurried off, Gourry caught the look of panic on his face. “What are burago flowers?” He demanded. “What's going on?”

“Burago's a diaphoretic,” Siebert responded curtly. “She's been poisoned, and probably worse.”

“Worse?” Gourry echoed, clenching his hands into fists. He had let that kid off way too easily. “Will she be okay?”

“I'm working on it, kid,” he replied with a sigh as he poured some liquid into a cup. “Shella,” he shouted just as the girl from earlier rushed into the room. “Good, wash up, and start cleansing that wound. Use the drosera tincture. Have him help you,” he jutted his chin out at Gourry.

“Sir?” The girl, Shella, brought the basin of water over to Gourry. “If you could please wash your hands, sir?” she asked politely.

Gourry shook his head, dismissing thoughts of the thief and retribution. Right now, if there was anything he could do to help Lina, well, it was better than just sitting there, waiting for her to draw her next breath. He washed his hands, following Shella's instructions and carefully cleaning under his nails. He had just started rubbing on the oily red stuff when Ryan appeared with that `floretic' Siebert had asked for.

While Ryan and Siebert worked on getting Lina to drink something, Gourry helped Shella. They ended up cutting away Lina's tunic, and Gourry was shocked to see the angry red lines spreading out from the wound. Shella placed a few drops of liquid from a dark blue vial into a water basin, and then she carefully sponged the wound with a soft cloth. She had Gourry fetch clean water several times and carefully mix in more liquid from the same blue vial before she had cleaned the wound to her satisfaction. The old healer investigated their handiwork, and then packed the wound with a poultice and bandaged Lina up.

“Now, we let her rest,” Siebert sighed, “and hope for the best.” Gourry barely even noticed when they left the room, leaving him alone with Lina.

She was breathing a bit easier, and now, instead of looking ashen, she was flushed with a fever. Gourry pulled a stool over to sit next to her, determined to keep vigil by her side. He looked at his hands, still stained with the red oil he had coated them with. Shella had told him it was to prevent the spread of infection.

“Sir?” Shella cautiously poked her head in the room. “Are you hungry? I brought you some food. It's not much, but . . .”

“Thanks.” Gourry waved her in, and took the bowl of stew she offered him. He had no desire to eat, but he spooned it down anyway. “Thanks,” he repeated as he handed her the empty bowl. Now that the situation was a bit less dire, Gourry took a good look at Shella. His initial impression had been that she was young, maybe no more than eight, and that she bore an uncanny resemblance to Lina. She had the same fiery red hair, and even the shape of her face was similar. The main difference was that Shella's eyes were bright jade-green. He realized now that she was older than eight. Twelve was probably closer. She carried herself with the maturity and assurance of someone who had just recently crossed the threshold from child to adult.

“Da said we have to give your wife more medicine every hour.” She smiled up at Gourry. “He was real impressed by the way you helped out, and he said I could show you how to give her the medicine if you want.”

Before Gourry could explain that he was Lina's protector, not her husband, Shella launched into an explanation that involved sucking medicine up to a line marked on a glass tube, and then slowly dripping it into Lina's mouth. She quizzed him several times to make sure he understood the procedure, and then she supervised him while he administered the medicine. As she left the room, she promised to check on them in an hour, and Gourry was once more alone with Lina and his thoughts.

The next few days blurred into a steady routine. Give Lina her medicine, sponge her to try and bring her fever down, change her bandages and watch for any number of signs that would indicate she had taken a turn for the better, or for the worse. Gourry lost track of time, and he completely ignored his own needs to take care of Lina. Shella and Siebert had to force him to eat or rest, but the food was tasteless and his sleep was fitful. He should have known Lina had been injured. He was supposed to be her protector, but he had failed to keep her safe from some two-bit thief. Gourry had never hunted down anyone before. He had never targeted someone for revenge. But watching Lina waste away before his eyes made him remember his promise to the cutpurse.

Gourry had no idea how long it had been when Siebert finally decided to try a different remedy that involved old cheese. It was a long shot, and rather dangerous, but they were quickly running out of options. Someone was always in the room with him, constantly monitoring Lina's progress. Although neither of them said so, Gourry knew that if Lina failed to respond to this medicine, she would die, and the thought filled him with anguish. It was as if someone had carved a deep chasm in his soul. He held her hand throughout that long day, willing her to live, to return to him.

By evening, Lina's fever broke.

*******************

She was itchy, and it was driving her nuts. From the top of her scalp to the tips of her toes, she felt like she was in desperate need of a bath. And what was that taste in her mouth? It was like moldy bread, and it made her want to retch. Lina cautiously opened her eyes. It was dark, save for one guttering candle that cast strange shadows across the room and reinforced her urge to vomit. She quickly closed her eyes. Considering that every muscle in her body was protesting and she had yet to try to move, it would probably be better if the contents of her stomach remained where they were for the time being. All in all, she felt quite wretched, and she thought back, trying to remember where she was, and more importantly, why she was there.

“Lina?” A vaguely familiar voice gently spoke her name. “How do you feel?”

“Gourry?” No, she knew it was someone else even as she spoke. The voice belonged to someone else . . . “Where's Gourry?” Lina tried not to panic. Fine, she was in some unknown place, but Gourry should be right next to her. That was the way things were supposed to work. She struggled to sit up. Maybe then things would make more sense.

Gentle hands restrained her. “Ssshh,” the hauntingly familiar voice hushed her. “He's sleeping. He hasn't gotten much over the past few days.”

Lina stopped struggling. Even the little effort she had put forth exhausted her, and she felt everything around her go fuzzy again.

“Rest, Lina,” the voice soothed, as a hand gently caressed her cheek, and ran fingers over her lips. Lina had already faded back to sleep.

But Gourry, who had awoken the minute she had called his name, saw everything.

*******************

“Gourry?”

Lina felt his hand holding hers, and it dispelled the remnants of her dream. She opened her eyes to a simple room. It was sparsely furnished, but it was clean, and the sun gleamed off the whitewashed walls. She was lying on a spartan cot that was just barely wide enough for her body. There was a dark wooden cupboard on one of the walls, and a rather comfortable looking chair was pulled up next to her cot. Gourry, not surprisingly, was sprawled out in it. What did surprise her was the way he looked. His eyes had dark circles underneath them, and his face was rather gaunt, at least the part of it that was not concealed by golden bristles. She wrinkled her nose and reached her hand out to stroke his cheek. “You look like hell,” she said blandly. “Except for this,” she added as her fingers brushed across the full beard he had somehow grown.

“Lina,” he choked on her name, as if it was the first thing he had said in quite a while, but he leaned into her caress, cupping her hand in his.

A welter of questions passed through her mind, but before Lina could decide which one to ask, her stomach grumbled rather insistently. “Ow. When was the last time I ate?”

“Honestly?” Gourry hiccoughed, looking like he was trying to decide whether to laugh or to cry, or to do both at the same time. “I don't know. I lost track after the first day or so.” He smoothed her hair away from her face and bent down to kiss her forehead. “I'm really glad you're feeling better,” he whispered.

Before Lina could think of an appropriate response, the door to the room opened, and a young girl, who looked about twelve or so, poked her head in. Lina stared in shock at the girl who could have been her younger sister, but the other girl was oblivious to the scrutiny. “Miss Lina!” She exclaimed in delight. “You're awake!” She turned her head to shout over her shoulder, “Da! Miss Lina's awake!”

As the girl entered the room Lina heard the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching rather quickly, and soon an older man bustled in and over to the bed. “How do you feel?” He laid a professional hand on her forehead.

“Hungry,” Lina responded without hesitation. “And I could really use a bath,” she added as an afterthought.

“Hungry, hmm? Well that's a good sign. Shella, get me some fresh water, and then why don't you make some rice porridge. We'll start her out simple.”

“What happened to me? Where am I?” Now that she knew food was coming, all the other questions Lina had started tumbling out. “Gourry, did you get my money back?”

“Yes, Lina,” Gourry said with a grimace and a sigh. “I got your money back.” He started muttering under his breath, but Lina had a hard time making out what he was saying. She was just about to demand that he speak up when Shella returned with the water, and the old healer handed her a cup full of liquid.

“Here, drink this,” he ordered in a tone that brooked no disagreement as he turned to wash his hands.

Lina lifted the cup to her mouth, and it took all her self-control not to spit the liquid out after the first sip. “What're you giving me, old man?” She demanded. “This tastes like moldy cheese!”

“Is that what it tastes like?” He replied mildly.

“It's gross,” Lina said flatly as she tried to hand him back the cup.

“Gross or no,” he responded in the same mild tone, “it saved your life, so I suggest you stop complaining. The faster you drink it, the sooner it'll be gone.”

“You sound like my sister,” Lina muttered under her breath, but she complied and drank down the rest of the cup, trying really hard to ignore the taste.

“See, that wasn't so bad, was it?”

“Why don't you drink it next time then,” Lina asked sourly. She hated being patronized.

The old healer knelt down beside her cot, ignoring her last question, and he began to untie the bandages around her midriff. “To answer your questions, you are in the home of Siebert the healer, which is me,” he added with a smile. “And you are very lucky to be here. You had the great misfortune to be knifed by one of the less savory groups of thieves who happen to coat their blades with poison after dipping them in the middens. Very few people survive such an attack, young lady.”

“How long have I been out, then?” Lina asked, trying not to think of all the rotting garbage and human refuse that typically went into the middens.

“Five days. It looks like your wound is finally starting to heal.” He replaced her bandages, and then took a deep breath. “Now,” he said in a serious tone, quite the contrast from the light banter of his earlier words, “I presume that you are a sorceress, correct?”

Normally, Lina would have made a sarcastic comment, but this time she held her tongue, simply nodding at his question.

“I thought as much,” Siebert replied. “Do you know the recovery spell?” After Lina nodded again, he continued. “I need you to promise me that you won't use it until I say.”

“Why?” Lina had heard of rivalry between herbal healers and those who used magic, but this was ridiculous.

“Right now, the infection within you is dying, but it is still fighting for life. If you cast recovery, you would heal your wound, but you would also strengthen the infection.” He paused and fixed Lina with a stern look. “Do you understand?”

“How long?” Lina whispered.

“Two more days,” he responded after a moment of thought. Then he held up a cautionary hand. “As long as you rest and follow all my instructions to the letter.”

Two more days? That would put the total at seven days. She had never been out from a wound that long before. Lina clenched her hands into fists. It seemed like there were some bandits in this town who needed a proper introduction to Lina Inverse.

“Do I have your promise?” Siebert's brown eyes bored into her, disrupting her thoughts of bandit hunting for the moment.

“Hunh? Oh yeah,” Lina mumbled absently. Siebert's stared at her intently, and Lina resisted the urge to squirm. She felt like an errant child being chastised. “Don't worry, Pops, I don't have the energy to use my magic now, anyway.” Lina's stomach rumbled again at that moment, as if to add emphasis to her words.

Siebert nodded and stood up. “Shella'll bring you some food soon.”

As the door to the room clicked shut, Lina shut her eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Man, this really sucks,” she muttered under her breath. “Five days? I don't think anyone has ever gotten me that good before.”

“Just once,” Gourry said softly. She could hear him moving out of his chair, and he knelt beside her cot, laying his head on her chest.

“Once?” Lina asked as she started running her fingers through his hair. It was matted and tangled and smelled none too fresh that close to her nose, but she ignored that, just enjoying the feeling of having Gourry close to her.

“In Sairaag. Sylphiel had to take you away to heal you.”

“You mean the time with Eris' copy Rezo?”

“I guess.” Gourry lifted his head. “That makes it three times too many that I've seen you almost die.”

Lina started to laugh weakly, then clutched at her side in pain.

“What?” Gourry glared at her.

“After all the dangerous situations we've been through in the past few years, after all the monsters and gods we've encountered and fought, and I've only almost died twice . . . well, that's not so bad, is it?”

Gourry continued to stare at her, his eyes flat.

“Although,” Lina conceded, “considering that Shabranigdo himself couldn't kill me, it would be really humiliating if some petty little thief brought me down.” In her mind's eye, she saw the “Great Hero Valun” posing and declaring in a pompous tone, “Yeah, I took down this scrawny little kid in one blow. Little did I realize she was the infamous Bandit Killer, Lina Inverse!”

“Yipe!” Gourry pulled back when Lina started to burn with fury.

“No way,” Lina bared her teeth and growled. “He's going down!” Suddenly, her entire demeanor changed when she saw Shella standing in the doorway with a tray. “Finally! Food!” She exclaimed clapping her hands in glee.

*******************

As happy as he was to see Lina recovering, there were several times over the next two days when Gourry fervently wished that she were still unconscious. Saying that Lina was not a good patient was like saying that the Dragon Slave could do a little damage.

First it was the food. She wanted something more substantial than rice porridge, and she complained that they were giving her baby food. And of course, she hated the medicine Siebert insisted that she take every four hours. She argued with him for nearly an hour about how vile it tasted. The only good thing about it was that after arguing so strenuously, she slept peacefully through the night, allowing Gourry to get a good night's sleep for the first time in days.

If he had thought the first day had been bad, the second was even worse. When he woke up, he caught her trying to get out of bed. She complained that she needed to use the necessary, so he pointed out that that was what the little bedpan was for. Finally, Gourry had threatened to hold her down on the bed by force, and then she had pouted until breakfast arrived.

After breakfast, she had questioned him relentlessly about what had happened after she passed out in the alley. It seemed like no detail was too small for her, and she frequently got that burning look in her eyes. Each time he tried to calm her down, she blew up at him. He sighed in obvious relief when Siebert came in to examine Lina, but his relief was short-lived because she had another huge argument with him about the medicine. She understood that she had to take it; she just wanted him to come up with a way to make it taste like something besides moldy cheese. Gourry wondered what she would have thought if she knew that the main ingredient in the medicine actually was moldy cheese, but he decided that if Siebert was keeping that detail quiet, there was no reason for him to say anything.

“I'm bored, bored, bored, bored, bored!” She started fuming, about mid-afternoon.

Gourry suppressed yet another sigh, and leaned back in his chair crossing his arms across his chest. “Ya know, Lina, sometimes you've just gotta take these things like a man.”

Lina spitefully stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, I am not a man!”

For which Gourry was eternally grateful, considering how much he enjoyed her as a woman. “That's not what I meant,” he murmured as he tried to avoid ogling her. Somehow, he doubted that would improve her mood. “Look. You just have to get through today, and then Siebert will probably let you cast recovery tomorrow, and you'll be fine.” Please, please, please let her cast recovery tomorrow, he thought desperately to himself. Lina was going stir-crazy, and she was taking him along for the ride.

Instead of continuing to rail at him, Lina started listing all the things she wanted to do. Food and bath were pretty high on her list, but so was tracking down the guy who had knifed her. Gourry half listened to her, while the rest of his attention wandered. He actually had a pretty long list of things he wanted to do once she had healed as well. Food and bath were also high on his list, along with a shave. He scratched absently at the beard that had sprouted over the past few days. He had always shaved regularly, and now that there was no reason to worry about Lina—at least about her immediate health, if not her mood—he kept getting distracted by how itchy it was.

And then there was Ryan. He had been in and out pretty consistently ever since he had led them here, and then nothing, ever since Lina had woken up. Although he seemed nice, and he certainly had helped them out, Gourry just did not like the man. It was more than the way he looked at Lina so possessively. There seemed to be something mercenary about him. On the other hand, Shella positively doted on him every time he showed up, and he obviously had a great deal of affection for her, as well as a deep respect for Siebert. Maybe it was just jealousy. Whatever it was, Gourry did not like it, not one bit. It shocked him that he could develop such a strong antipathy to someone he barely even knew. But every time he tried to think of a reason to like Ryan, he remembered seeing him caress Lina in her sleep. Somehow, that one gesture was irredeemable.

Suddenly Gourry realized that Lina had stopped talking. He glanced over at her and then looked at the water clock, suppressing a chuckle. Well, if Lina thought she could avoid taking her medicine by feigning sleep . . .

Sure enough, the door opened and Siebert walked in carrying Lina's afternoon meal and medicine. “Really, Lina, do you think I can't recognize someone feigning sleep?”

Lina cracked an eye open. “It was worth a try,” she groused.

“Well, I've considered all your most eloquent arguments, and I've added something which should help the taste.” Siebert handed her the mug.

“What is it?” Lina looked at the mug suspiciously.

“Just try it,” Siebert said innocently, “and tell me what you think.”

Lina took the mug and sniffed. “Mint, hunh? Well, I guess it can't be worse, right?” She took a cautious sip and grimaced, but then she quickly drained the cup. “Ugh. Too much mint, and now it has a bitter aftertaste.”

“There's no pleasing you, is there Lina?” Siebert surreptitiously winked at Gourry as Lina started shoveling down her food. Gourry kept his face expressionless, but he wondered what the old healer was up to.

As soon as Lina finished eating, Siebert examined her. Before he had finished, she was snoring. The healer stood up and openly grinned. “She should be able to use her magic tomorrow, as long as she gets a good night sleep.”

“What'd you give her?”

“Just something to help her get a good night sleep,” Siebert replied innocently, still grinning. “She's not used to being so still is she?”

Gourry considered. “I think it's more that she doesn't like feeling so helpless and dependent on others. Her entire reputation is based on being strong and independent.”

“I've heard. Some call her the `Bandit Killer,' others the `Enemy of All Who Live.' Asleep, the descriptions didn't fit her. But now that I've seen her temper . . .” Siebert rolled his eyes.

“The first time I found out that she was famous, some guy called her `Dragon-Spooker.'” Gourry glanced over at Lina fondly. “She nearly pulled the guy's beard out until he offered her money.”

“I hadn't heard that one. The only other ones I've heard are `Dra-Mata' and `Sorcery Genius'. They don't say much about the blond swordsman who has accompanied her of late.” Siebert locked gazes with Gourry, all hint of casual joviality gone. “Does she know who you are?”

Gourry shook his head in confusion.

“You don't remember me, do you?” Siebert broke eye contact with a sigh. “Well, it has been quite a few years, and I have put on a great deal of weight since then,” he said deprecatingly as he stroked a hand over his stomach. “I wasn't sure it was you at first either,” he continued. “But then Shella showed me the tapestry she found when she was doing your laundry.”

“How . . . When . . .” It had been years since someone had recognized him, and that had been Sylphiel's father, the high priest and leading magistrate of an important city. To have a healer in the middle of nowhere recognize him surprised Gourry, and he struggled to form a coherent question. He took a deep breath.

“So, does she know?”

“There's nothing to know,” Gourry said softly.

Siebert closed his eyes in sorrow. “I had hoped the rumors were just that,” he said in a thick voice. “Especially when I saw you here.”

“How did you know about the tapestry? How do you know me?”

“You might not remember . . . you were so young when it happened . . . An assassin tried to drown your mother in the bath. I was the healer who nursed her back to health.”

Gourry did remember. Actually, he wished he could forget. He had been the one who found his mother, held under the water and being throttled by the long braid of one of her maid servants. He still remembered how her eyes had bulged out of their sockets and the trickle of blood floating out of her mouth. He had been no more than five or so. They later told him that he had raised the alarm and when the guards had got to the bath, Gourry was latched onto the maid, biting at her arms. His mother had stayed in bed for a very long time afterwards, but he had been too young to think anything of it.

Siebert continued without looking at Gourry. “She talked a lot about wanting a tapestry of her two boys in her room where she could always see them.” He clenched his hands into fists. “I recognized the device of your family, and your mother's particular style.” Siebert turned at looked at Gourry quizzically, cocking his head slightly to the side. “You've got your father's build, but you've got her eyes.”

It was shocking enough to meet someone who knew about him and his family. It was even more astonishing to meet someone who spoke so fondly of his mother. Siebert's sorrow seemed to run deeper than that of a healer who had learned that a former patient had passed on. Gourry wondered exactly what kind of relationship Siebert had shared with his mother, and then he desperately wished the thought had never occurred to him. She was his mother! And it felt distinctly uncomfortable—wrong actually—to see another man looking for her reflection in her son's eyes. Gourry cast about desperately for something, anything, to change the subject. Fortunately, Shella called out from the front room, and Siebert hastily excused himself.

With a sigh of relief, Gourry stood up and stretched, working out kinks that had settled in from his long period of inactivity. Instead of getting answers in this town, it seemed like he had more questions than before. Siebert's question in particular, about whether Lina knew who he was, bothered him. He knew Lina, and she knew him, but he knew almost nothing about her past, and she seemed to know nothing about his. He wondered about that. How they could have been together for so long, and never exchanged histories. Well, there was nothing strange about him not telling her much. Sometimes it was hard to get a word in edge-wise, and honestly, he would much rather not think much about what had happened before he had met her. Still, given how much Lina seemed to love the sound of her own voice, she almost never talked about her childhood. Instead, she talked about things that were really unimportant, like history and magical theories and such.

Well, tomorrow, after they went bandit hunting and Lina had a chance to blow off some steam, maybe he would ask her. He absently scratched at his beard, and then glanced over at Lina. She was sleeping peacefully, and from what Siebert said, she would be out until tomorrow. Gourry decided that this would be a good time to find a bathhouse. And once he felt human again, he could try to get some information about local bandits. He nodded to himself. It was certainly better than sitting around in the quiet with no company but his thoughts.