Slayers Fan Fiction ❯ Flam Gush ❯ Chapter 6

Flam Gush 6

The light from the sun poured through the little window, casting shadows on the wall. Lina watched as the shadows slowly shifted, waiting—for the moment at least—patiently for something to happen. Although she was awake, she felt muzzy and abstracted. She had noticed almost immediately that Gourry was someplace else, which bothered her, but she had a difficult time figuring out why. All-in-all, it was easier to watch the shadows on the wall.

As time went by, she grew a bit more lucid, at least enough to realize that it was not like her to calmly stare at shadows. She shifted her attention to the chair next to her cot, and she was entranced by the complex patterns in the fabric. Reds and blues swirled together and then apart, and then back together. Her eyes traced each swirl as if she were watching some intricate dance performed by a skilled couple; if only there were music to accompany their dance.

When Shella came in to check on her before breakfast, Lina's attention had moved on from the chair, and she was holding a few strands of her hair in front of her face, twisting them this way and that. If she held them one way, they looked red, but if she tilted them just a bit, they caught the light and looked gold instead.

Shella was more than a bit startled to see Miss Lina acting this way, and she quietly left the room to get her Da, noting absently as she gently closed the door that Mr. Gourry must have stepped out for a moment.

The quiet snick of the door closing caught Lina's attention next, and her brow furrowed in concentration. Where was Gourry? Maybe he was hiding from her? Was she supposed to look for him? Lina giggled at the thought of playing hide and seek like a little girl, and she pushed herself up out of the bed. She was distracted by the wave of vertigo that passed over her, and she giggled again as she fell back down on the small cot. It was more fun than a fair ride, she decided, so she sat up again to see if the feeling would happen again. To her utter delight, it did, and she entertained herself by sitting up and collapsing onto her back a few more times before she remembered that she was supposed to be looking for Gourry. The most logical place for him to be was under the cot, she decided after thinking about it a few moments, so she leaned forward to look underneath. Unfortunately, she over-balanced and ended up plopping head first onto the floor.

By the time Siebert arrived, Lina had determined that Gourry was not actually under her cot, and she was crawling around the room alternately giggling and calling out for him.

“Is she okay, Da?” Shella sounded as if she had some serious doubts at that point.

Siebert groaned. “She's fine, Shella, but she's going to have a raging headache in about an hour. Maybe less,” he amended as Lina banged head first into a wall.

Lina looked up at the two of them and happily waved. “I'm looking for Gourry! Jellyfish's found a really good spot!” Then she continued crawling around the room, first looking behind the curtains and then underneath the chair.

“What's wrong with her?” Shella asked. “She looks drunk or something.”

“It's a rare side effect to the medicine I gave her last night. She'll be fine, but we probably don't want her moving around too much before she's fully healed. Go get some breakfast for her, and bring a fresh cup of primrose tea as well.” Siebert walked over to Lina and took her hand. “How about if I help you look for Gourry?” He asked as he helped her to stand and started steering her back to her cot.

Lina cocked her head and considered. She was having a hard time finding him, but . . . “Wouldn't that be cheating?”

“Well, did Gourry say you couldn't ask for help?” Siebert pointed out, as if this were a perfectly reasonable question.

“Ummm . . .” Lina's brow furrowed in concentration. Come to think of it, what were the rules of the game? On the other hand, she had no clear memory of them deciding to hide from each other, either. She rubbed her forehead, trying to figure out why she was having so much trouble thinking straight.

“Here,” Siebert helped her sit down on the cot, and pressed a warm mug into her hands. “Drink this, and then you can eat your breakfast.”

Lina looked at the mug suspiciously. She had the strangest feeling that she was going to hate whatever was in it, but she could not seem figure out why. Suddenly it came to her. “This isn't more of that vile tasting medicine, is it?”

“No,” Siebert replied calmly. “It's to help your headache.”

“But I don't have a headache,” Lina protested as a spike of pain lanced through her left temple. “Do I?”

“If you don't yet, you probably will soon.”

“Oh.” Lina lifted the mug to her lips, but she paused when she noticed the bowl Siebert was holding. “Is that my breakfast?” She asked hopefully. Her stomach felt awfully empty.

“Drink the tea first,” Siebert replied firmly, “and then you can have your breakfast.”

Lina pouted, but she was starting to feel a bit tired, and protesting would probably take too much energy. She sipped at the tea, surprised at its pleasant taste. Once she finished, she started fishing for the flowers that were stuck at the bottom of the mug, but Siebert plucked the mug from her hands before she got a chance to get one. He cut off her protest by handing her the bowl that had her breakfast and Lina happily shifted her attention to shoveling down the food. She sighed contentedly when she finished and leaned back on her cot, closing her eyes.

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

Gourry woke up with a headache. Not the hangover type headache, but the “I've been hit upside the head with a frying pan” type headache. He winced in pain and tried to figure out why he should have such a headache, because the last thing he remembered was relaxing in the public baths, having scrubbed himself clean and shaved off his accumulated stubble. Maybe he had slipped on a bar of soap? That would explain the headache, but not his current surroundings. Somehow, he had moved from a pleasant bathhouse to a rather unpleasant dank cell. It must have been a relatively straightforward transfer, however, because all Gourry was wearing was a towel around his waist and a pair of manacles that led from his wrists to the wall. A matching set were around his ankles, staking his legs to the floor. All in all, it was a very unpleasant way to wake up.

“So, you're finally awake.”

Gourry looked up. “Garik,” he bit out. Standing on the other side of the cell was a large burly man with a patch over his left eye.

Garik sketched a mocking bow. “I am honored you remember me, Master Gourry.” Although the words were polite, his tone was scathing.

“How could I forget?” Gourry growled. He and Garik had served together in a mercenary army. It was one of the first times Gourry had been away from home. His parents had bought him a commission as a way to teach him leadership skills. Although Gourry told no one of his parentage, Garik had resented the younger man, his position in the army, the easy camaraderie he enjoyed with his men, and most of all, his skill with the sword.

For his own part, Gourry had found little to like about Garik. The older man worked his men too hard, and he treated the camp followers like chattel. He had a cruel streak, and he seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on others.

One day, Gourry had been out walking, and he came across Garik beating one of the camp followers. Officially, these women cooked and washed clothes for the soldiers. Unofficially, they also exchanged sexual favors for money. Gourry had no clue what this woman had done, but he had no intention of standing idly by and watching Garik brutalize her. So he had intervened. Both men had been spoiling for a fight. Gourry had been stomaching various insults for months, ranging from slurs about his parentage to pointed comments about the “pretty little boy.”

The duel, if it could be called that, was over almost before Garik realized that the “pretty little boy” whose parents had bought his commission, fully deserved his position. Defeat had not sat well with him, and as Gourry leaned over to help him up, Garik had flung a fistful of dust into his face and pulled out his boot-knife. During the ensuing struggle, with Garik's blade inches from his throat, Gourry had gouged out Garik's left eye. He still remembered how easy it had been, how he had just pressed with his thumb, trying to get leverage to keep the knife away from his throat. He also recalled with distressing clarity the disgusting popping sound the eye had made when it came free of its socket, and how it had dangled momentarily, grazing Gourry's cheek.

“Well, it looks as though the years have treated you well, Gourry,” Garik said with a sneer. “Still the pretty little boy, it seems, although I've heard you're playing lap dog for a pretty little girl.” He clucked his tongue in mock concern. “I also heard she got quite a nasty scratch.” He laughed without mirth.

“And I can see that you've moved up in the world, Garik. Kidnapping, hunh? What's wrong? Did raping the camp followers lose its taste? Or were you afraid of losing your other eye?” Gourry threw the final dig, partly because Garik's over-use of the “pretty little” phrase was really annoying, but also because the fact that Garik knew so much about him and Lina made him distinctly uneasy. Far more uneasy, in fact, than sitting half-naked in chains.

“Kidnapping,” Garik protested, putting on a show of mock offense. “No, I prefer to think of it as doing a public service.” He laughed again. “I'm just helping to bring the murderer of Lady Lucilla to justice.”

Gourry stared at him blankly. “Lady who?” He masked his satisfaction at the look of raw frustration that flared across Garik's face. There was nothing better to take the wind out of someone's sails than throwing an ignorant question at them.

Garik chose not to answer his question, and instead directed his attention at the young man who had just entered the room. “It's a pity that Deremar wants him alive,” he sniffed, but it quickly turned into a snicker. “Other than that, though he didn't specify what kind of condition to bring him back in. You can do what you want with him, Zeil, just make sure you find out where the girl is.”

“Sure thing,” the young man replied as he sauntered into Gourry's view, swinging a key ring around one finger. Gourry had no trouble recognizing him either: it was the thief who had attacked Lina a week ago. “I still think she's dead though. Why else would he have been by himself?”

“It's quite fortunate for you,” Garik replied evenly while backhanding Zeil across his face, “that I am not paying you to think. I am paying you to act.” He strode over to the door, and then paused to glance back at Gourry. “Enjoy his company, Gourry. It's probably the last thing you'll ever enjoy.”

Refusing to rise to the other man's barb, Gourry simply sat impassively. Garik waited expectantly before grunting and slamming the door behind him in obvious annoyance. Meanwhile, Zeil fished around in his clothes and pulled out a bundle of leather. He unrolled it on the rude table just outside of Gourry's cell, to reveal a host of unwholesome looking implements. The small iron tongs were the most innocuous items in the set. There were also an assortment of hooks, saws, needles, pliers, and knives. Zeil placed a couple of hooks in the brazier next to the table, and they immediately started to smoke, giving off the unpleasant aroma of burning flesh. He inhaled the smoke with a sigh of pleasure, and then he turned and looked at Gourry. “Don't worry, they'll be nice and clean, not like the knife I used on the girl. They might be a little hot, though,” he added with a giggle. Then he pulled a whetstone out, and began honing the edge of one of the knives, singing a little tune softly to himself.

Gourry recognized the tune after the first verse. It was the same as the song that Amelia and Lina had once sung together, thinking that it was some ultimate spell. Watching the thief take care of his tools of torture while singing about a maiden's shy prayer for love made Gourry's blood run cold. It was just sick. And he had thought Garik was twisted. This kid raised depraved to entirely new heights. Or depths. Whatever.

At the same time, he recognized that a lot of this extensive preparation was a show. Torturers liked to drag out the anticipation, using the promise of pain to come as a form of torture itself. Gourry refused to play along, so he closed his eyes, and tried to close his ears and nose, and focused on his plan of escape. Garik was getting soft in the head if he thought he could hold Gourry so easily. Once the kid entered the cell, this farce would be over.

When the door to the cell jangled open, Gourry was ready. At least, he thought he was ready. When he opened his eyes, he realized that he had been too quick to judge the levels of Zeil's depravity. He was standing in the doorway to the cell, holding a red-hot hook in one hand. That was expected. What shocked him was the fact that the kid was stark naked and openly fondling himself with his free hand, while staring hungrily at Gourry's crotch.

“Gonna have some fun now,” he leered, as a thin line of drool ran down the corner of his mouth. “Not so tough without your sword, are ya?”

Well, that explained why they had staked out his legs like that. It made sense now, Gourry realized as Zeil knelt between his knees and pulled the towel slowly away, making sure that it rubbed against him in a suggestive manner. It took all of Gourry's self control not to flinch and give him any satisfaction. When Zeil looked up at him, his eyes burning with lust, Gourry acted, using all his strength to pull at the chain attached to the wall. As he expected, the pin popped free with an audible snap, and the chain smashed into Zeil's face, ripping his cheek and breaking his jaw.

Zeil lurched forward in surprise, and Gourry hissed in pain as the hook bit low into his belly. Thankfully, it hit higher than his groin area, but having Zeil collapsed between his legs was almost as bad. Gourry grimaced in disgust and pushed him violently to the side. Zeil started hissing and spitting while jabbing at him with the hook. Gourry pulled his other arm free of the wall, but this time his opponent ducked when the chain came whistling towards his head. He scuttled backwards out of the cell, and Gourry struggled to free his legs. The iron bands around his ankles proved a bit sturdier, however, and he struggled to find the right leverage to pull them free.

A sudden yell of triumph provided Gourry the split second he needed to duck the knife hurled at him, and it slammed into the wall behind him instead of into the side of his neck. The fire of victory blazing in Zeil's eyes dimmed when his blade missed his target, and he started scrambling for another weapon. He was not quite fast enough, however, and he glanced down in stupefied surprise at the hilt that stood quivering in his chest, and the knife he held fell from nerveless fingers as he slumped onto the table.

Gourry heaved a sigh of relief, and then he started cursing under his breath. The key that he needed to unlock the irons around his ankles was currently hanging on a thong around the kid's neck—on the other side of the room. If only he had a bit more leverage, but his legs were spread at such an angle that maneuvering was incredibly difficult. He had no idea how long he had until someone came to check on them, and he really wanted to be gone before that happened.

Finally, Gourry struck on the idea of using the chains for extra leverage, and at that point it was a simple matter to pop the irons out of the floor. He hesitated briefly before flipping the kid over to free the key he needed to rid himself of his manacles. Just the thought of touching him gave Gourry the creeps. He hesitated even longer, staring at the pile of clothes on the floor and considering his options; his own clothes were nowhere to be seen. Not really surprising, actually. Gourry thought they were probably exactly where he had left them: neatly folded in a locker in a bathhouse; which meant he could retrieve his towel, or he could squeeze into the kid's clothes. Neither option appealed, although the second was probably the better choice.

With a sigh, Gourry picked up the pants that were probably going to be at least three sizes too small for him, and tried valiantly not to gag at the rank odor of stale sex and blood that permeated the clothes. It took a bit of judicious slicing of seams, and Gourry figured he probably looked like some poor beggar, but at least he was marginally decent. There was absolutely no way he could cram his feet into the boots, but he supposed it could be worse. He had a hard time figuring out how it could be worse—particularly as he cringed away from the damp spot in the crotch of his newly acquired pants—but at least he was armed. Now, he just needed to figure out how to get from here back to Lina, preferably without leading a bunch of thieves employed by an unscrupulous bounty hunter straight to her.

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

There were voices whispering off to the side. She could easily hear the hissing sibilance, even if she could not make out any actual words. If they were going to wake her up with their conversation, the least they could do is let her hear what they were saying, Lina thought with annoyance. She opened her eyes and turned her head in the direction of the voices, ready to chastise them for disturbing her sleep. All such thoughts fled from her head when she saw who was talking. Siebert and Shella she expected. The other person, though, she had never thought to see, ever again. She closed her eyes, and then opened them. She swallowed hard, and then licked lips suddenly gone dry.

Well this was just peachy, no? She was acting like a little girl, really this was just unacceptable. It just would not do for anyone to know that this was getting to her. After all, it had been so long ago, they had just been children, right? Lina quietly took a deep breath, steeling herself to act normally. “Do you guys absolutely have to have a whispered conversation in here? People were trying to sleep, you know.” There. That sounded like her. If her voice was a bit brittle, well, no one would know but her, right?

She had the satisfaction of seeing them jump guiltily, and then Ryan turned to look at her. She avoided his gaze as she sat up to look around the room. “Where's Gourry?” she asked, genuinely surprised not to see him. She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead, trying to rid herself of the residue of a headache she did not remember having.

Siebert moved to the side of her cot. “Still have a headache?” he asked as he placed his fingers lightly on her temples.

Lina shook her head. “No, it's mostly gone. Where's Gourry?” She stifled her growing sense of panic. Something was wrong with Gourry, and there was Ryan, looking at her like . . . No. She shook her head again. She refused to think about it right now.

“He went out for a bath.” Siebert looked at her with a smile that was supposed to be reassuring, but since it stopped before reaching his eyes, it only increased her concern.

“Oh,” Lina replied, smiling back. Hopefully hers was more convincing than his.

It seemed to satisfy him, because he shooed Shella and Ryan out of the room and started what Lina fervently hoped would be her final exam.

“Well,” she asked when he leaned back, “can I use my magic now?”

“Hmm?” Siebert seemed quite distracted, but Lina let it pass. “Oh yes. Go ahead.” He went over to wash his hands, and then he waited expectantly for her to cast the spell.

Lina had hoped he would give her some privacy, but as it seemed that he was settling in, she shrugged and immersed herself in summoning forth the magical power to heal the remnants of her wound. She could feel the energy heeding her will, as well as the slightly itchy sensation of injured flesh knitting back together. When she released the spell and opened her eyes, Siebert was standing right next to her.

“May I?” He asked. After Lina nodded permission, he traced the faint pink line that stretched from her ribs down across her midriff. Over time, it would fade, just as most of the other scars she had acquired over her life had. He nodded to himself. “It looks good, but we should probably keep you monitored for any sign of further infection.”

“It'll take a while for the infection to come back, if it does at all, right?”

“Probably at least a day or so,” Siebert conceded. “Why?”

Lina pointed at her lank hair. “I really want a bath. I itch from head to toe, and I could use a good soak.” She smiled winsomely. “It'll give me something to do until Gourry comes back. That way I won't be bored sitting around waiting for him.” She knew she had been a difficult patient over the past two days, and she was hoping that the oblique reference to that fact would give her the leverage she needed to make her getaway. She was certain they were hiding something about Gourry from her, and although it defied explanation, she kept having the nagging sensation that he was in trouble.

“Well, I suppose I could have Shella heat some water for you,” he mused while rubbing absently at his chin. “But, it would probably be better for you to go to one of the public baths,” he said with a smile. “You'll get a better soak, and the exercise will do you good. Just don't overdo it, okay?”

Lina smiled in genuine relief. “I won't,” she promised. Of course, her idea of “overdoing it” and his were probably dramatically different, but that was neither here nor there. The less Siebert knew about her plans, the happier they would both be. At least this way, there was no need to sneak out through the window.

As soon as Siebert left the room, she started her preparations. She stashed Gourry's sword in a fold of her cloak. It took quite a bit of on-the-spot jury rigging to get it to stay while looking unobtrusive, but she had a feeling he was going to need it. It was a shame there was no way to sneak out his armor as well, but that would probably be too obvious. Her small dagger was secreted into her boot. After all, no one would believe she was just going to take a bath if she came out armed to the teeth. Actually, the thing that took the longest was trying to decide what to do with her shirt. She had a grand total of two shirts left: the tunic she had washed in the inn back in Deremar's village, and the torn dirty one she was wearing now. It would hardly be proper to go about in a torn tunic, but she really wanted to save the clean one, because she really did intend to take a bath soon, and she wanted clean clothes when she got out. Finally, she took off the torn tunic, and using her dagger, she sliced off the ragged bottom edge, and then put it back on. It left her midriff bare, but it did satisfy the basic demands of modesty. Naga had run around in far less clothes than this, and if she fastened her cloak just a bit differently, no one would notice her cropped top.

Satisfied that she was ready, Lina picked up a small sack holding her clean clothes and some toiletries. When she opened the door of her sick room, she was startled to see Ryan leaning against the wall opposite her, his arms folded across his chest. He was obviously waiting for her.

“Siebert asked me to show you to the closest bath,” he said by way of explanation.

“That was nice of him,” Lina replied. She avoided looking him in the eye. She had neither the time, nor the energy to deal with demons from her past, and she was more than a little bit afraid of what she might see in his eyes. She was even more afraid of what he might see in hers. “Let's go. I'm dying to get clean.” She started walking down the hall, cursing her heart as a traitor for thumping so loudly in her chest.

“Lina?” Ryan's voice stopped her in her tracks.

“What?”

“The door out is this way,” he replied, pointing the other way.

“Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?” Lina demanded in righteous indignation. She held on to that particular feeling as strongly as she could. It kept her from feeling other things she had no desire to feel at the moment.

“You haven't changed a bit,” Ryan replied ruefully. “Still as pig-headed as ever, I see.”

“Right now, I feel like a pig.” Lina retorted, tossing her lank hair. “I probably smell like a pig, too.” She started down the hallway in the direction he had indicated. “Are you going to show me to the baths or aren't you?” When Ryan made no move to follow her, she glared at him. “Fine, I'll find my own way.”

“You're going after him aren't you?”

Lina turned around slowly. “Who, Gourry?” She shrugged in calculated nonchalance. “I'm sure Jellyfish'll find his own way back eventually.”

“I thought as much,” Ryan snorted. “Don't lie to me, Lina. You may have been able to fool Siebert, but he doesn't know you nearly as well as I do.”

“Fine,” Lina grated out through clenched teeth, “I won't lie to you.” She turned and started walking down the hall again. Ryan had always been able to see right through her, a fact that had annoyed her to no end.

“Wait.” Ryan grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. “If he is in trouble, what do you think you can do to help him?” he demanded intently. “You're just one girl, and you've been flat on your back for seven days. Do you really think you can help him if he can't help himself?”

“Ryan, let me go,” Lina said simply.

In response, Ryan tightened his grip on her arm. Lina slumped against him, seemingly capitulating, and his grip relaxed ever so slightly. Lina slumped down even further, surreptitiously drawing her dagger from her boot. Before Ryan could react, she straightened, holding the blade at his throat. Ryan stared at her, his face white. “I'm not the defenseless little girl anymore, Ryan.” Lina said calmly, lowering her dagger. “I haven't needed you or Sis to protect me for a long time now.” She tucked her dagger back in its hiding place in her boot and stepped away from Ryan. “Now, you can show me to the baths or not, as you choose. But don't make the mistake of thinking you can tell me what to do.” She paused, and then added a bit wistfully, “That part of our lives ended years ago.”

Ryan continued to stare at her, and Lina was surprised at what she saw in his face. Shock was foremost, but underneath it, she saw regret and deep concern for her. Finally, he looked away. “I'll take you to the baths Siebert sent him to last night. After that . . .” Ryan shrugged.

Lina tried to figure out if she should be relieved or not, but she nodded her acknowledgement, gesturing to him to lead the way.

It was a short walk between Siebert's apartments and the nearest public bath, a modest family establishment. The hostess clearly remembered Gourry. In fact, at the end of the evening, when they were closing up, she had thought he must have fallen asleep in the bath, so she had sent her eldest son to check on him. Instead of Gourry, the boy found an empty bath and a blood-smeared rock. His clothes were still neatly folded in a locker. The family had notified the constable first thing in the morning, but beyond that, there was little they could do, not knowing Gourry's name or where he was from.

As she stared at the rock stained with Gourry's blood, a cold fury settled over Lina. She was oblivious to the fact that Ryan suddenly, and rather nervously, expanded the distance between them. When she asked the hostess for permission to search the room, the matronly woman pointed the way and sighed in obvious relief when Lina closed the door behind her.

Although she went through the motions of searching the room, Lina was fairly confident she would find nothing of use. She kept turning the rock over in her hand. Someone had left this here on purpose. There were no other signs of violence in the room, save for this rock, so it must be a message of some sort. If she could figure out the message, it would bring her that much closer to Gourry. She snarled in frustration as she paced the room. She just knew that Gourry was in trouble, and here she was pacing a bathing room. Ryan's questions echoed through her mind. All the strength and magic in the world did her no good if she had no way to find him. Finally, she sat down on a low bench, and as she did, she bumped against Gourry's sword.

Gourry's sword. There was the niggle of an idea there, and Lina took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and tease it out. She pulled the sword, still sheathed in its scabbard, out of her cloak and stood it in front of her, pushing the hilt from hand to hand. As she did so, she remembered the time Sylphiel had divined their direction in Rezo's labyrinth. Lina remembered being disappointed with how simple the procedure had seemed. Sylphiel had said a short prayer for luck, and then she had let her rod fall to the ground. But Lina was no shrine maiden, and she seriously doubted that such a method would work for a bandit-killer like her.

Bandit-killer. Oh! She berated herself for being so stupid. How many times had she said it? “Never underestimate the amount of information bandit gangs could have!” All she had to do was find the local bandit gang—and she owed them a visit at any rate, as payback for attacking her in the first place—pump them for information, and her problem would be solved. At the very least, they would give her a new lead, even if the one gang she knew of had nothing to do with Gourry vanishing from the bathhouse.

She stashed Gourry's sword back in her cloak and cracked her knuckles. With purpose and determination, she marched out of the room, ignoring the queries from Ryan and the hostess. Without a backward glance, she Raywinged towards the old abandoned part of town. There were bandits back there who needed a proper introduction to Lina Inverse.

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

Gourry leaned against the wall of the stairwell, wondering how much further up they went. It seemed like he had been climbing stairs since he had left his cell behind. For once, he was actually glad he lacked armor and boots. It made it a great deal easier to sneak around, that was for certain. So far, he had only come across two other people. The first one had been asleep at the door to the first set of stairs he had found. Gourry had rapped him on the head to keep him asleep, and he had taken the man's sword, just in case. The second had been a woman. Gourry had been sneaking down a hallway, and she had suddenly opened the door he had been leaning on. They had stared at each other for a brief moment of shocked surprise, and then she had hurled a throwing knife at him, just barely grazing his thigh. Unfortunately for her, that left her unarmed, and Gourry neutralized her fairly easily before she could raise an alarm. Unfortunately for him, the knife had been poisoned, and he could feel the debilitating effects starting to spread through his system.

At least the wound was little more than a scratch, and nowhere near as severe as the hit Lina had taken. It was small consolation, however, because he already felt just slightly off balance, and he was sure the nausea would hit him all too soon. He only hoped that he could resist the poison until he got free of this warren of stairs and hallways.

Just as Gourry pushed himself off of the wall and started climbing up the flight of stairs in front of him, he heard an explosion and the sounds of people screaming. He flattened himself against the wall when the door to the stairwell opened, and a panicked man started running down the stairs. When he saw Gourry, he must have thought he was a fellow thief for he shouted out in warning, “Run for your life! It's the Bandit-Killer!”

Gourry felt a surge of relief, and ignoring his dizziness, he ran up the stairs taking them two at a time. Within moments, he heard Lina's voice alternately shouting out spells and calling for him. He had no idea how she had found him, but at that moment, he could care less. “Lina!” he called as he staggered into a room that bore several scorch marks. It was lucky for the bandits that there was nothing that combustible in their lair—except for the bandits themselves, Gourry amended when he noticed the crumpled bodies strewn about the room.

“Gourry!” Lina shouted, dropping the bandit she had been shaking and rushing over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. “Where have you been?” She demanded.

“Long story,” Gourry grunted, as he shoved her to the ground. They just narrowly avoided the knife hurled by the man Lina had been interrogating. He rushed at them, brandishing another knife, but Lina cut him down with a flare arrow, and then looked at him in concern. Gourry noticed that his hands were shaking, and try as he might, he could not bring them under his control.

“Are you okay?”

“One of them got me,” Gourry admitted, pointing to his thigh. “It's just a scratch, but . . . I think it's poisoned . . . same thing you had.”

Lina swore softly under her breath. “Watch my back,” she commanded, and then she closed her eyes in concentration, chanting a spell under her breath. As she finished, Gourry felt the dizziness recede, and his hands stopped shaking. “Feel better?” she asked, placing her hand on his cheek.

Gourry nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

Lina looked at him closely, taking in the rags he was wearing. “That should take care of the poison, but I don't think Dicleary will cure infections, so I won't cast recovery, just in case.”

“It's just a scratch, anyways.”

She nodded and then pulled his sword out of her cloak. As she did so, Gourry noticed that she was exposing a great deal more skin than was her wont, but he took his sword from her gratefully, ditching the inferior blade he had been using. “Let's go punish the rest of these miscreants,” she said enthusiastically, “and then I want a bath!”

“Well, what do we have here?” A voice interjected. “Hmm. It looks like the pretty little girl has fallen right into my grasp without me having to go out and find her.”

Gourry gently pushed Lina to one side and unsheathed his sword. “Garik,” he bit out.

“Garik?” Lina repeated, turning to face the new-comer. She did a slight double take and glanced quickly between him and Gourry. “You know him?”

Both Garik and Gourry gaped at her. Gourry was the first to recover. “Yeah. We served in the same army for a while. A long time ago.”

“Not another old army buddy,” Lina said in disgust.

“Not quite,” Garik said smoothly in his deep voice. “More like . . . rivals.”

“Rivals?” Gourry spat. “You were never in my league to begin with.”

Lina nodded knowingly and stage-whispered to Gourry, “That's what happens when you get a reputation. Everybody with third-rate talent proclaims themselves your rival, just to gain some notoriety.” She turned her attention back to Garik. “Well, that's a relief,” Lina said with theatrical exaggeration. “I'd hate to think that Gourry was friends with a clumsy rapist.” Then she smirked. “I guess I'll leave you to Gourry then. After all, he hasn't had a turn to beat you up in a long time.”

Gourry dragged his attention away from Lina to face his self-proclaimed “rival”. How she knew Garik was beyond him, but that was beside the point at the moment. Garik was still struggling to recover from the shock of Lina's reaction. Gourry guessed that he had encountered very few “little girls” who showed so little fear and so much indifference. He was so off-balance trying to figure her out, that he ignored Gourry.

“I think you're way out of your league, Garik,” Gourry stated as he approached him calmly, his sword drawn. “You may have caught me unawares yesterday, but you don't have that luxury now.”

Garik glanced around frantically, almost like a cornered animal. Finally, with a snarl, he drew his own sword.

From the second their blades crossed, there was no question as to who was the better swordsman. Gourry almost negligently parried Garik's first clumsy swipe, and before he could get his guard back up, Gourry nicked him across his forearm. Nothing serious, just enough to draw blood. Garik had been decent with the sword before, but now, missing one eye, he was at a serious disadvantage. Gourry watched his expression carefully, on guard for some kind of underhanded tactic.

Garik feinted, and then thrust towards Gourry's left side. Gourry quickly blocked, and he allowed Garik to push him towards the right. As he did, he saw the flare of triumph in Garik's eyes. Garik's free hand flew towards his belt, and he smoothly launched a dagger. The dagger flew wide of Gourry on his left side and hurtled towards Lina.

“Diem Wind!” Lina shouted, and a blast of air flew forcefully from her, causing the dagger to drop harmlessly to the floor.

Gourry braced himself against the gust of wind, but Garik was unprepared for Lina's counterattack, and he stumbled backwards. With a flick of his wrist, Gourry disarmed Garik and sent his sword skittering away.

Garik scrabbled backwards, trying to get away from Gourry and the blade leveled at his throat. He lurched against the door frame, and with a panicked look over his shoulder, he took off at a run.

Lina tsked as she moved to stand next Gourry. “I'd say `rival' was a drastic over-statement,” she commented mildly as she flipped her hair over her shoulders. It was a move that would have looked a whole lot more dramatic if her hair had been clean, Gourry noted absently.

“So, how do you know Garik,” Gourry asked as he sheathed his sword.

“I don't, really,” Lina shrugged. “I caught him trying to rape a girl in Deremar's village when I was pilfering food from the inn. She called him `Garik', and I recognized the eye-patch.”

“You didn't tell me that,” Gourry accused.

“It hardly seemed worth mentioning,” Lina replied after the briefest pause. She stared at the wall, but Gourry could tell that she was looking right through it. “He had barely ripped her shirt when I pulled him off of her and hit him with a mono volt.” Her voice trailed off, and she stood silent for a few moments. Then she shook herself. “C'mon. Let's clear this place out and find their loot!” She smiled up at him, and her smile almost reached her eyes. Almost, but not quite.

Something about that encounter troubled her; it was pretty obvious. What bothered him was that he had a hard time figuring out who she was trying to distract: him or herself. Now that he thought about it, she had seemed rather upset when she came back to their camp that day, but she had brushed it off as hunger, and he had accepted it. It was funny. They had become physically intimate, but it seemed that they were drifting away from each other at the same time. If someone had told him two weeks ago that Lina would keep secrets from him, he would have thought them mad. But then again, he had never thought he would keep secrets from her either. Gourry shook his head. He was probably overreacting. The past few days had been trying. First Lina had been seriously injured, and then he had been abducted from a bath and subjected to the attentions of a depraved pervert. Maybe they just needed a decent meal and a good night's sleep and everything would go back to normal.

“What's wrong?”

“What?” Gourry shook his head again, wondering if he had missed part of the conversation again.

“Well,” Lina said with her hand cocked on her hip, “you're just standing there. Are we going to find the loot or not?”

Gourry smiled fondly at her. “Yeah, let's go.” Now, that was typical Lina single-mindedness. Filling her purse was always her first priority, winning out over hunger, exhaustion, or whatever else came her way. He ruffled her hair the way he used to when they had first met. “Then we'll find a bathhouse, and this time for sure, I get to wash your back.”