Beware of Bandits That Go Grump in the Night

Beware of Bandits That Go Grump in the Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can we move on now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, hello there, toots.”

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

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

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

No duh, genius.

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

Um… ew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I acted like I was thinking it over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ya little…” He tried again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somebody cue the chorus of angels, would you?

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

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

Not a bad threat, I thought.

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

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

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

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

“Ya little… !”

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

“Ya impertinent cad!”

Guess not.

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

At last, the sword fight began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. She’s just a kid.”

Just a kid? Okay. That stung a little.

Oh, but wait—there’s more!

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

Gah!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Little miss?! God, help me…

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

Grr… “No, no… I’m—uh—by myself…”

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

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

Oh, now… wait just a damn minute—!

“Where do your mommy and daddy live?”

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t know what else to say.

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

Bad ideal Bad ideal Bad—idea!

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

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

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

He was obviously committed to the idea.

“But… I…”

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

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

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

“I’m Lina. I’m a… traveler.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Step two…”

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

Ta-da! Total victory!

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

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

“One down!”

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

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

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

Okay, end of commercial.

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

“Hang in there, little lady.”

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

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

“Except I’m not a man.”

I think I threw him with that one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Nothing. Fishing is all about patience, you know.

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Still nothing.

Here, stupid fishy, $#@!$#—!!!

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

“Lina, you eat the tails?”

Don’t be such a little girl, Gourry.

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

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

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

“Lina, the stomach’s in the guts.”

“Yes it is, Gourry.”

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

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

“Okay, even if that is the case—”

“It is.”

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

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

“I’m still hungry, Gourry.”

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

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

Okey dokey.

I grabbed my fishing rod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The goblins halted.

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

Here, fishy, fishy, fishy…

Silence.

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

And then… I got a bite.

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

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

“Grab it!” I shouted in Goblin.

“Gii!” they responded.

“Gya gya, gukii!”

“Gyuge!”

Yes, well done.

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

I handed my rod over to the nearest oaf.

“Gi?”

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

“Gi… ?”

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

“Giggi!”

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

Gourry’s mouth was hanging open incredulously.

Ah, now I remember. “About earlier…”

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

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

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

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

Gah!

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

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

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

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

Die, Gourry! DIE!

I buried my face in my soup dish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riiiight.

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

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

“That’s her,” someone growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whoops. Yeah, you got me.

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

Gourry eyed me suspiciously.

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

About then, I felt troll breath on my cheek.

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

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

“No way.”

“Okay…”

Great. The innkeeper is going to hate me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks. Did you miss me?” I huffed.

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

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

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

“You cheeky little—”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s fine, just do it!”

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

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

“Argh!”

“Ack!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gourry was the first to look up… timidly.

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

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

I knew this was coming.

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

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

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

So far, so good!

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

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

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

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

Score!

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

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

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

You didn’t have to answer so quickly.

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

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

He wasn’t buying it.

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

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

“Did I?”

“You did.”

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

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

Not that little lady crap again.

“Okay, sit.”

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

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

Silence.

Gotcha.

He nearly hyperventilated.

“Gourry, I’m kidding… just kidding.”

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

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

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Men.

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

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

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

“I didn’t know any such thing.”

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

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

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

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

Bull’s eye.

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

“That sounds like a reasonable line of thought?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“Any other questions?”

“No.”

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

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

“I’m not going anywhere. Shoot.”

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

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

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

When I finished my monologue, Gourry nodded heavily.

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

“Bandage Man?”

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

“You think he used magic to find you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Magic users can do anything, huh?”

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

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

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

“No, teacher.”

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

Someone knocked.

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

“Who is it?” I called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My “bodyguard” and I looked at each other.

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

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

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

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

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