Saillune: Caught in the Family Feud

Saillune: Caught in the Family Feud

Wh-what the hell?!” was all I managed to get out. The insect from hell raised its ugly wings. Pointedly facing me in the noisy crowd, the beetle fluttered those wings with a great deal of power.

WHOOSH!

Maybe those wings weren’t good for flight, but they sure made for a mighty wind—er—blast.

I remember hurtling for I don’t know how long or how far, then rolling across the lawn like a carelessly tossed rag doll.

“O-ow,” I wheezed. I lay there, my eyes half-closed, and tried to breathe. Getting the wind knocked out of me had never hurt so bad.

“Lina!”

I couldn’t tell where the cry came from. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Kanzeil; in the midst of all the chaos, he just stood there with folded arms. He stared at me, his eyes glittering with explicit malice.

“Lina!”

It was Gourry. I looked back to see him drive his sword through one of the beetle’s feet. Nothing.

“Wha?!” Gourry lurched backward, away from the creature. “Now what?!”

Normal weapons obviously had no effect on the thing. This was one nasty demon beast, probably vicious enough to give Zanaffar of Sairaag a run for his money.

But I wasn’t about to waste the time Gourry had bought me. I stumbled to my feet; the spell I was chanting was done by the time I stood.

“Atscha Dist!” I roared.

Giiiiiii! The beetle shrieked so loudly that its body quaked and the entire courtyard shuddered with the sound. Apparently, pissing the demon off was the extent of my success.

Dammit! I’ve used that spell to vaporize vampires, but all it did here was tickle that bug’s feet.

The beetle pivoted toward me again and gaped. Without another thought, I flung myself sideways just as the demon sounded off a terrible screech.

A giant, destructive explosion went off several yards behind me. Whipping my head in its direction, I saw the courtyard—the portion of it I’d been standing in, anyway— completely flattened. All greenery had dissipated and the area had turned into a smoking crater.

Hot damn!

Only a shockwave could’ve caused that damage—a shockwave emitted by the creature itself.

We still had one glint of hope. “Gourry!” I shouted. “Light!”

“Good idea!”

As Gourry worked to unleash his sword, I started chanting another spell. Unfortunately, with soldiers still hacking at the bug, I had to keep the big guns stowed away or run the risk of killing Phil’s men. It wasn’t exactly a handicap I needed at the moment.

But before I could finish what I was chanting, the beetle swung a leg at me.”Gaa!” I cried as another shockwave slammed me right in the knees. That miserable bastard could send those things with his legs?! The vibration flipped me over and sent me flying backward and upside down.

If I live through this, I’m stomping every beetle I ever see for the rest of my life!

I crashed on the other side of the lawn, reeling and dazed. The good news was that I wasn’t dead—I only felt like I was. Grunting and gasping, I stumbled to my feet but then collapsed instantly.

From somewhere in the upheaval, I heard Gourry yell my name. He was nearby, but I was too dazed to even know which way was up.

“What’s the meaning of this, Kanzeil!” cried Alfred. “This wasn’t part of the plan!”

Good luck, I thought. Talking to that maniac sorcerer had done so much already. Blinking pain from my eyes, I fought my head up and turned to the bug.

A swirling beam of plasma appeared between the beetle’s antennae. As it arced between the feelers, igniting as it swirled, the blood ran cold in my veins.

A lightning attack?!

It hit me before I could even scream. Be it a blessing or a curse, the magical shock that raced through my body knocked me out before I could register much pain. When I jolted awake seconds later, I wheezed, fighting to breathe, and looked up to see the bottom of a massive beetle foot…

The bug wanted to squash me.

I’ll admit, the irony hurt. It hurt almost as much as being tossed around all morning like a rejected toy. I could almost hear the town crier the next morning: “Lina Inverse, world-famous sorceress, crushed to death by an insect!” That was not acceptable.

Panic shot up my spine as the bug’s leg came rushing down to kill me. I could only think one thing:

I don’t wanna die a gag!

CHOOM!

A white light streaked across my vision. Whatever it was knocked the demon’s leg off-balance, and the foot instead came slamming down in the charred grass by my side. Barely believing I was still breathing, I looked up with wide eyes.

Amelia. She was running toward me, shouting something I couldn’t hear. Dazed, I also noticed Gourry, charging toward the off-balance bug with his Sword of Light held high. With a war cry that rang through the air, Gourry hewed off the creature’s head as easy as slicing a piece of bug-pie.

Soon after a whole lot of goopy bug-pie filling oozed out, I lost consciousness.

* * *

“We’re quitting this job and getting out of here.”

I moaned. Who said that?

When I opened my eyes, Gourry was leaning over me. I stared at him a second, then slowly came to the realization that I was in a bed and my heart was still beating.

Gourry must’ve caught the dazed and puzzled look on my face because he backed away and let me get my bearings. I must’ve looked a real mess—I tried to brush back my hair and smooth out my sleep-worn face with my hands. Fighting to sit up, I cast my bleary eyes around the room.

It was a spacious place with tidy white walls. if heard a fire crackling in the hearth and the scent of herbs filled the air around me. At the foot of the bed, I noticed a team of concerned magic healers. A few seconds more and I realized I was back in the temple infirmary—the place where Gourry had taken me after my windpipe-crushing encounter with Zuuma. I figured I was quickly becoming the most popular patient at the palace.

Engraved within the floor’s stone tiles was a large hexagram. My bed lay exactly in the center of it. “Hey!” Amelia chirped from Gourry’s side. “How’re you doing?”

“Pretty tired,” was all I could muster. “But I can move and nothing hurts too bad.” I tried to shift my legs a little under the blankets, but didn’t really succeed.

Amelia smiled cheerfully “Well, that’s what happens. But it sure beats the alternative!”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “ ‘That’s what happens?’” I repeated.

“What the hell happened to me out there?”

Gourry averted his eyes. “Uh,” he mumbled, “I think it’s better if you don’t ask.”

I raised an eyebrow at Amelia. She just smiled and waved a hand at me.

“Oh, it’s nothing to get upset over,” she said with inappropriate chipperness. “Your legs got slashed and you have burns all over your body. Nothing really major.”

Okay. I wasn’t ready for that.

“But… how?” I asked. “What happened?” I was still trying to wrap my head around the big-bug battle.

“The short end of it is: Mr. Gourry killed the bug with the Sword of Light right before it sliced you up. It was very impressive.” She gave him a big smile, further proving she never got tired of doing that to people. “Though I never expected him to have the Sword of Light. How very exciting!”

Great, but I already knew that.

“So you guys killed the thing, then what? Did—”

“Let’s not go there,” Gourry interrupted. “It doesn’t matter, Lina—we’re getting out of this mess as of now.”

“What? Why?”

“Why?” Gourry repeated, his voice rising in pitch. “Don’t you get it, Lina?! It’s you they’re after. So don’t come cryin’ to me if your head gets hacked off by one of your many enemies.

Don’t worry. I don’t think my hacked-off head’s gonna do much crying.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m well aware that someone’s out to get me,” I responded. “Hello context clues.”

Sheesh, he didn’t have to get so worked up.

“Yeah! So?”

“So, I still have no idea why I’m a target. What do you think?”

Gourry blinked. “Uh, I dunno,” he said blankly. “What’re you askin’ me for?”

“No reason.” No, I didn’t actually think Gourry was a conspiracy cracker in disguise, but it never hurts to ask. I shook my head, sharing in his general puzzlement over the way things stood.

“Honestly,” I said, my spirits sagging, “I don’t have a clue, either. Until that last attack, we weren’t sure if the enemy was even after me personally.” I gripped my chin. “Although,” I said after thinking a bit, “if I’m the target, maybe it’s got nothing to do with Phil and Christopher. Whoever’s targeting me could just be using the whole palace situation as a cover.”

Gourry frowned. “Maybe,” he agreed after a second. “Do you see why it’d be pointless for me to back out of all this? Whoever’s after me is gonna stay after me regardless of where I go.”

Gourry scratched his head, a sign that some of this was actually getting through that thick skull of his. “That’s… true.”

And I’ll have to confront whoever it is eventually. I’d rather take my stand right here, where I have a job to finish.”

I’d sure shut up Gourry. He stood there mutely, his eyes glazed over, his mouth a little open.

I paused. “Hey, Gourry?” I added.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him. “I mean, for worrying about me. But I’ll be okay.”

Gourry sighed. “Be real careful, though,” he told me. “There’s a lot we don’t know about Kanzeil. If he’s really coming for you, we’d better be extra careful.”

Gourry bringing up Kanzeil reminded me of something that had been bothering me ever since the bug brawl. “You know what’s weird?” I found myself asking. “I know Kanzeil is one nasty and suspicious creep, but during that battle we just had, I’m sure he didn’t cast a single spell.”

Gourry’s brow got all wrinkly. “Then how the hell…”

“I see what you mean,” hummed Amelia, her arms folded. She paused to give Gourry a little while longer to figure it out, but he was busy trying to pick a piece of lint out of his hair.

“It means someone else summoned the demon.” She gave him a forced smile. “Come on, Mr. Gourry—work with me here.”

I cleared my throat. Welcome to my world. “Miss Amelia?” I asked. “Of all the others in the courtyard that afternoon, who can use magic?”

Amelia cocked her head, trying to remember. “Well,” she said, “the escorts—I mean you and Mr. Gourry, if you count his magic sword—and Kanzeil, of course… then Uncle Christopher, Alfred, and myself.” She paused. “In short, everybody except my father.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Can you tell me their power levels?”

“I’m not sure about the others,” Amelia admitted. “For many of them, magic is just a hobby. I could tell you what spells they prefer but not really what level they’re at.

“As for myself,” she continued, “I mostly use Priestly Magic with some Black and Shamanic Magic thrown in. I learned from my older sister Gracia.”

“Hmm,” I said distantly. “That leaves one last person.” I turned and locked eyes with Amelia. “I know there was once a guy here named Randy. If I remember correctly, he got on really well with Christopher, am I right?”

Amelia blinked, then nodded. “Well… yes. Except I wouldn’t say he and Christopher got along well, they just managed to tolerate each other.” She put her hands on her hips. “Miss Lina, I didn’t know you knew Uncle Randionel.”

“I knew him,” I said vaguely, “a little.” Okay, so it was an understatement.

I’d had a run-in with Randy before, and he was making me rethink my suspicions about Christopher summoning that beetle. Randionel had reason to be after me.

Awhile back, when I’d first met Phil, his traveling companion Randy—who just happened to be Third Successor to the Royal Throne—was trying to assassinate him. I got involved, yadda yadda yadda, and Randy’s ass ended up kicked by none other than yours truly. I was starting to wonder if Christopher knew about all that.

Can’t people just let bygones be bygones?

Argh. “Anyway,” I said at last, letting out a long breath. “What ended up happening with Phil and Christopher’s big meeting?”

“Oh.” Amelia shrugged. “That got put on hold. Things were way too weird and stressed-out between Father and Uncle Christopher.”

“So, after all that, we still don’t know why I’m on a hit list?”

Amelia threw out her hands. “No no!” she exclaimed. “That’s not the case at all!” She smiled again, but this time it was… impish.

“Kanzeil’s vanished, Miss Lina.”

The next time I saw Amelia was two days later. Gourry and I, figuring safety was in numbers, had decided to stick close to each other and to Phil—though tailing that guy could be a real snooze-fest for a gal who’s used to the freedom of the road. We were standing guard outside Phil’s office and slowly losing sanity to boredom when she skipped up.

“Hey!” Amelia chirped with a smile. “How’ve you been?” Amelia definitely took to the peace that had prevailed since the beetle debacle. Gourry and I were a little suspicious of the recent calm, but Amelia, for whatever reason, obviously wasn’t. She leaned in toward us and lowered her voice. “Come with me for a sec?”

Gourry and I shared a glance. “Sure.”

She’s being secretive now?

The three of us ducked into a nearby chamber. It was a guestroom, actually, not too different from the ones Gourry and I were staying in.

“What is it?” I asked in a low voice.

Amelia smiled. “Calm down,” she reassured me. “It’s nothing that serious.” She produced a piece of paper from a pocket in her robe.

“It seems that yesterday,” Amelia announced, “Lord Clawfell went into the city on an errand… and was abducted.

“He was what?“

Gourry, poor guy, was totally thrown off by Amelia’s response. “Hold it,” he said, actually holding out his hands. “Clawfell getting kidnapped is kinda serious, isn’t it?”

I glared at Amelia incredulously “I gotta agree with Gourry on this one.”

“Well, that’s why I’m bringing you this.“

It was a ransom letter addressed to Phil. As far as ransom notes go, it was strictly by-the-numbers, saying something to the effect that if Phil valued Clawfell’s life, he was to appear at such-and-such appointed place and blah blah blah. Frankly, it made me yawn. Whoever was the ransom-note auteur sure didn’t know how to tug on the strings of the desperate. Believe me, it can be fun.

“They probably don’t like how well-guarded Father is right now,” Amelia explained. “And if I know Father, the second he sees this he’ll have to rush off to the rescue.”

It didn’t take me long to figure out where the conversation was headed. “Don’t tell me,” I said. “You want us to rescue Clawfell, right?”

“I knew I could count on you!” Amelia squealed happily. “I’m supposed to hand this letter over to Father right away, but I’ll hold off until tomorrow evening. That should be enough time for you to rescue Clawfell and—”

“Hang on!” I broke in. “Amelia!” It was enough to put a stop to her incessant chittering. Looking her square in the eye and in as calm and rational a tone as I could muster, I said, “You do realize what you’re asking don’t you? This is a helluva lot easier said than done.”

Amelia frowned in an unsettlingly adorable fashion. “You don’t want to do it?” she asked, still pouting.

I shuffled my feet. Gourry tried to avert his eyes, switching his gaze to the floor.

I sighed. “We’ll do it,” I answered, “but all I’m saying—”

“Yay!” Amelia smacked her palms together. “We’re all set then!”

“But you do realize this is quite possibly a trap, don’t you?” Amelia waved her hand at me, a great big smile on her face. “Lina!” she exclaimed. “You big kidder! Of course it’s a trap!” Maybe I should take her faith in me as a compliment, I thought tiredly. After half a second of imagining where that would get me, I decided against it.

“Look,” I muttered. “Think outside the box for a second, all right? The enemy might’ve sent this letter expecting that you’d show it to us. It’s possible that they’re planning to infiltrate the palace and attack Phil as soon as Gourry and I leave to rescue Clawfell.”

She paused a minute. “Maybe,” she agreed at last. Then she smiled again and said nothing more; I took that to mean she was done talking.

It was clear that Amelia didn’t fear danger like normal, sane people did. She must’ve noticed that I was still anxious, because she placed a hand on my shoulder and said gently, “It’s okay, Lina. I’m sure we’ll get through this… probably”

Probably ?!

“I realize,” Amelia added, locking eyes with me, “that this mission puts you and Mr. Gourry at great risk. Lord Clawfell has been taken to a place that’s very difficult for a large group of soldiers to surround—that’s why I think the two of you are best qualified to handle things.

“Truly, I’d like to go with you. The desire to do so burns throughout my entire body like the Flames of Justice. But it’s best that I stay here so that, if the need should arise, I can let fly with some necessary magic.”

She let go of me and marched toward the door. Before leaving, she spun on her heels to face us.

“I know it’s risky but I really need for you to handle this yourselves. Please.” She clasped her hands and, in a beseeching voice, added, “Pretty please.”

With that, she turned and vanished out the door. I assumed she was off to tend to her flames… those raging Flames of Justice, that is.

Gourry and I stood there, staring blankly at each other. “Well,” offered Gourry, “at least she said pretty please.”

* * *

Thin fingers of fog curled through the city’s narrow streets and alleys that night. Pale haloes of light from lampposts barely pierced through the fog’s veil.

Block 15, Saillune City. The slum district.

The street was lined with dirty, frowning tenements. Lights winked from the taverns and the brothels, and I could hear the noise of rowdy and drunken revelers from within them. There was no one out in the street; obviously, the fear and tension that hung over other parts of Saillune City loomed over its slums as well.

Slipping out of the palace itself had been surprisingly easy—if we managed to rescue Clawfell, we could probably get back in through the main gate. The trouble was going to be in springing Clawfell from wherever he was. The thought of confronting Zuuma and another giant beetle didn’t do much to strengthen my rescuing mood.

If Amelia’s map was correct, the ransom rendezvous point was deep inside a spiderweb of alleyways. I realized now what Amelia had meant when she’d advised against a squad of soldiers; anyone familiar enough with the ins and outs of the maze of alleyways could easily outwit and escape a bulky pursuing force

We picked our way through as carefully as we could. The people who had kidnapped Clawfell had probably posted lookouts all over the place, so we had to be stealthy. I was in no mood for a surprise standoff that would alarm the district and blow the Whistle on our whole mission.

Being smack dab in the middle of one of Saillune City’s most crowded areas, the enemy definitely had the upper hand. Not only were they more familiar with the terrain but also less squeamish about wreaking serious havoc on innocent civilians. Plus, I was afraid their first tack would be to use Clawfell as a hostage.

I did have spells up my sleeve that I could use, but I couldn’t be sure that someone as old as Clawfell could take that sort of thing without having a heart attack. Hence my finicky—okay, anal—insistence on being as exceedingly quiet and cautious as possible.

I stuck an arm out in front of Gourry. “Stop,” I whispered.

Ahead of us was a large lamp-lit courtyard. My guess was that it had been made from the collapse or demolishment of several neighboring buildings. The ground was naturally unpaved, and in the center stood a single lamppost surrounded by garbage.

There were no two ways about it: Gourry and I had to cross through that place to get to our destination. I didn’t like the idea of being exposed, especially since I could sense at least two hiding lookouts.

“Two people on the path ahead,” Gourry muttered in a hushed voice.

“One’s standing still,” I said, “and the other’s reporting to him. I think.”

“Probably,” Gourry agreed. He exhaled deeply. “Both of them seem decently tough.”

“What do you mean, decently?” Gourry turned to me. “You remember those guys who attacked us at the guesthouse?” he whispered. “Not quite as tough, but close.”

I groaned. “Kind of a problem, then.” It wasn’t so much a question of eliminating them—I was sure we could wipe the floor with those guys—but eliminating them quietly. I needed our mission to be as clean and silent as possible.

Gourry leaned in closer and asked, “Is there no other way through?”

“I might be wrong,” I replied, “but I get the feeling they just changed shifts. If that’s true, then we’re wasting our time waiting; we have to break through.”

“But how?”

I beckoned for him to bend down. Once he was closer, I cupped my hand around his ear and whispered the plan.

Half a minute later, Gourry and I marched straight into the courtyard. We kept our gait as casual as if we were just out for a breath of fresh, foggy air. On the other side, we saw the silhouettes of two figures standing watch. I was sure they’d noticed us, but in the dim lamplight and the fog we were probably pretty obscured.

“How you doin’, fellas?” Gourry said in a slightly strained tone. “What’s the, uh, word?”

The figures didn’t respond. They looked at us and then at each other, probably bewildered that they were being spoken to. “The targets… left the Royal Palace,” one of them said at last. “They should be here any minute.”

Gourry and I nodded casually and kept walking toward the alley. As we drew closer, we could make out their forms more clearly.

“Why?” asked the same lookout. “Did something happen?”

“Don’t scare us,” the other lookout added. “We thought you were the enemy.”

Gourry smiled as we stepped up to them. “We are,” he quipped. In a whoosh of air and a crack of fist hitting face, Gourry reduced the first of them to an unconscious heap on the ground.

The second lookout could only blurt, “Wha?!” and bring a whistle to his lips before Gourry caught the back of his head with a hand-chop. The lookout slumped to his knees, wide-eyed and with a hand cupped around his throat, before he dropped face-first to the ground. I could hear the whistle that had gotten rammed down his throat making soft tweets as he breathed.

“Man,” commented Gourry. “They sure fell for that one.”

Knowing Gourry as well as I did, I was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to make that terrible, terrible joke and I could therefore spare his life.

“The enemy probably hired a bunch of mercenaries from all over the place,” I said as we picked our way around the lookouts. “It’s no surprise they don’t all know each other, particularly in the dark.”

I felt a tinge of anxiety as we continued onward. “We’d better hurry,” I added. “It won’t be long before—” My words caught in my throat as a presence—a very bad presence— suddenly zapped into existence behind us.

Gourry and I spun around at the same time. There, under the wane light of the lamppost and wrapped in the green veil of fog, stood Kanzeil the Sorcerer. He calmly stared at us with his evil ice eyes.

“It’s been awhile,” he remarked. “Several days, I believe.”

“Kanzeil,” I answered, glaring back. “ I thought you’d be long gone after ditching your employer and leaving the Royal Palace.” I tried to stay calm, but how do you stay calm around a psychopath with talent? I still wasn’t clear on exactly what kind of destruction the guy was capable of.

“Ditching my employer?” Kanzeil repeated from across the fog. “Not exactly. It seems that my employer didn’t care for my methods, although I can’t say I blame him.” He watched his long fingers as he flexed them. “It’s just as well. “I couldn’t bring attention to myself, and my magic was too constrained. Many embarrassments ensued as a result.”

I cleared my throat, trying to work up the nerve to actually say something. That guy was champing at the bit to wreak some havoc.

“Embarrassments?” I asked with as much confidence as I could muster. “What was he paying you for, Kanzeil?”

I heard the sound of Gourry unsheathing his Sword of Light. He was acting on instinct now, alert to a sensation I was beginning to feel myself: that Kanzeil was looking for the slightest opportunity to take us down for good. As far as villains go, Kanzeil was well on his way to giving me an ulcer.

“You should know the answer to that,” he replied calmly, his lips curling in a smile reserved for the especially evil. “To kill you, Lina Inverse.”

“But why? Why kill me?”

“That,” Kanzeil said, smiling again as his form began to ripple, “is for me to know… and you to die for.”

And with that, he vanished. Half a second later I felt his presence somewhere behind me.

I spun around and found myself staring at Kanzeil’s open hand. A pale blue light flared up around it.

“Good-bye.”

FOOM!

A brilliant ball of energy burst from Kanzeil’s palm, only to scatter into showers of light before it slammed into my forehead. I heard the faint humming of Gourry’s blade and realized that I’d been within a hair’s breadth of getting barbequed.

Kanzeil wasn’t kidding around. He hadn’t even bothered with an elaborate trap or a speech about how he was invincible—the man just wanted blood. Gourry lashed at Kanzeil with the Sword of Light, but Kanzeil leapt backward and out of reach before vanishing again.

His presence zapped in directly above us. Instinctively, I jumped away from where I stood; glancing behind me I saw a shower of energy balls raining down on where I’d just been.

“Your instincts are sharp,” Kanzeil boomed from above, his back against the night sky. “If you had looked up, you’d be a sizzling puddle of flesh right now.”

I tried to snicker at Kanzeil, but it came out sounding more like a croak. “N-not in the mood to sizzle, thanks. And I like my flesh the way it is.”

Honestly, I was floored. No one I’d ever encountered could chant a teleportation spell and then immediately launch an energy attack. Everything I’d learned about magic in books told me that wasn’t possible.

For humans, anyway.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Kanzeil said as he floated gently to the ground.

Just as Kanzeil touched down, Gourry slashed Kanzeil from behind. Unfortunately, Kanzeil just vanished again, this time reappearing under the lamppost at the center of the courtyard.

“This is a trick even Seigram can handle,” Kanzeil called. “It’s really no great feat.”

Gourry and I glanced at each other. Seigram, the Mazoku that Gourry and I had locked in a death-match with? We’d barely won that fight, and we definitely hadn’t finished Seigram off. I had a feeling we’d cross paths with him again when he was thirsting for revenge.

Kanzeil spoke of Seigram so off-handedly, like he was nothing but a minion.

“Y-you’re a Mazoku?!” Gourry cried.

Kanzeil chuckled. “Yes. And you are easily fooled. However, for a human to mistake the mere form of a human for humanity itself… that indeed is most human.”

Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, while Kanzeil was spewing scorn, I was chanting a spell under my breath. I knew that, at best, I might knock the wind out of him with one of my spells. But there’s nothing like trying, right?

I was coming to realize that Kanzeil probably had been the one to summon the beetle. That damn thing had withstood a direct hit from my Atscha Dist spell, and any demon who could summon a creature that powerful had to be ridiculously powerful himself. The thought was frightening.

The only spell I thought might possibly beat Kanzeil was Dragon Slave, but it was far too lethal to summon in the middle of a densely populated area. Besides that, I had an assortment of other less destructive spells that could potentially damage a Mazoku, but their variety and power levels were pretty limited.

To defeat a Mazoku as powerful as Kanzeil would require me to strike him several times in quick succession. That was not a feat I had any illusions of accomplishing; Kanzeil was too fast and too crafty for that. With Gourry, though, and his Sword of Light, I figured I had a glimmer of a chance. That is if Gourry could get around Kanzeil’s teleportation trick. But like I said, anything’s worth a shot. And Gourry, obviously, was thinking the same thing.

“Let’s go!” he cried as he sprang forward.

I followed close on his heels.

“That’s a fairly impressive speed,” Kanzeil commented as we rushed him. But, as expected, he vanished just as Gourry brought down his blade. The Sword of Light cleaved nothing but air.

Kanzeil’s vanishing was my cue to get the hell away from where I was standing. I wasn’t going to get fried into a crispy curl if I could help it. As I leapt away, I sensed Kanzeil to the right of the lamppost.

“Elmekia Lance!” I shouted and released my spell just as Kanzeil appeared.

“Please,” Kanzeil sighed, sounding more bored than scornful. He muttered a single word and my magic lance burst apart in midair.

“Do you honestly think you’d have a chance with that?” he asked. “Let’s not waste each other’s time, shall we?” As he spoke, a brilliant light flashed forth from his body.

“OW!” I yelled, squinting my dark-adjusted eyes and throwing an arm over them. The back of my eyeballs burned as if every nerve ending had been singed, but I didn’t have time to nurse the pain.

I leapt to my right. It must’ve been in the nick of time, because as I moved, I felt a hot mass—a fireball, maybe— graze past my head. A couple of seconds later a nasty explosion went off not far behind me.

I’d managed to dodge another shot, but my luck wasn’t going to hold out all night. My vision still hadn’t recovered; everything was still a blur and my eyeballs hurt.

Suddenly, I sensed the presence of several new intruders in our midst.

More guys from the group that kidnapped Clawfell?

They’d probably heard all the commotion and decided to attack in large numbers.

“Lighting!” I managed to unleash my own blinding flash of light on the unsuspecting newcomers.

“Hey!” the men cried. I heard them tumble over each other, screaming about their eyes; in the alarm and confusion I ran right into the thick of them. I knew they wouldn’t serve as much more than meat shields against a cruel bastard like Kanzeil, but I needed to buy time until my vision came back.

“Ugh,” was Kanzeil’s only audible comment. He grumbled a bit more, but then vanished.

Where would he appear next? I desperately scanned the area for his presence, but came up with nothing. What I did sense were several other intruders—probably more of Clawfell’s kidnappers—approaching from the other side Of the alley. My vision was slowly coming back; I still couldn’t see much, but at least my eyeballs hadn’t melted away.

“Lina!” It was Gourry’s voice. I felt his hand grab mine and pull me away from the hullabaloo.

He clutched both my shoulders and stared at me. “You all right?!” Apparently his vision had come around a lot sooner than mine.

“Somehow,” I muttered, blinking and squinting. “Kanzeil… ?”

“I dunno—he didn’t come back after the last time he vanished. Can you walk?”

I nodded. “But I’m still pretty blind,” I added. “I can’t swing a sword, but I think I’ll manage.”

“More enemies are heading this way. There’s no way we can break through their ranks, not in this alleyway. Can you make us fly?”

“I’ll try.” I began to chant. Until our recent episode with Kanzeil, I’d been careful not to use magic for fear that our enemies would sense us. But now, after our not-so-quiet run-in with Kanzeil and blinding a slew of guys with Lighting, any idiot who couldn’t sense us was probably dead.

I clung to Gourry. “Ray Wing!” I shouted, and toward the rooftops we soared.

“Congratulations on making it this far,” boomed a man positioned at the entrance of the old stone-and brick apartment building Gourry and I were making for. He puffed his chest out arrogantly. “You’re pluckier than I thought.” Ordinarily, I’d have had no qualms knocking the bozo flat on his face. But the dark apartment building behind him was huge, and not knowing which room Clawfell had been stashed in meant a blind search would take all night. Besides, flipping over every chair and table would only alert the kidnappers and let them slip away with Clawfell.

I sighed and lowered us to the ground.

Stupid diplomacy. Now I have to threaten and/or kick the snot out of one of these guys so he’ll bring me to Clawfell.

The authoritative monkey with the puffed-out chest would do just fine. “Hey there, champ,” I addressed him. “Listen, we don’t have time to shoot the breeze, so let’s get right to it, shall we? Just hand over the old guy and we’ll consider not killing you. How’s that?”

The man considered my words calmly, a little too calmly for my taste. “Now, now,” he chuckled. “That’s no way to talk to someone who’s just taken your friend hostage.”

“It is… if you know you can shatter every bone in his body without half trying, so I suggest you cut the attitude.

And if we find that you’ve killed Clawfell already, that’ll only make the decision to tear you to confetti that much easier.”

“You’ve got me quakin’ in my boots,” the man replied in a mocking tone. “Don’t worry, girlie, our hostage is too valuable to kill. He’s sittin’ pretty.” The man stepped toward us, and with a sweep of his hand said, “But I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. See, I’ve got lookouts posted all over this place. If they see you start somethin’, they’ve been instructed to chop little pieces off that geezer pal of yours.”

“Wha?!” Gourry and I both cried at once.

“So unless you want your buddy missin’ fingers and toes, you’d best behave yourselves.” The man chuckled and shook his head. “We’re all outsiders, darlin’, and not one of us is gonna think twice about slicin’ and dicin’ the old man if it comes down to it.”

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath. The monkey knew how to use a hostage, which wasn’t something I’d expected.

“So, girlie?” the man snarled, baring a lovely set of broken yellowed teeth.

Ugh! Learn to floss, stinky.

“Fine.” I turned to Gourry “We’d better lose the weapons, Gourry” Gourry sighed, dismayed. “Guess so,” he murmured.

We both tossed our weapons aside. Half a second later, a bunch of men swarmed out of the building and tied our hands behind our backs.

“For a pair of badasses, we got captured pretty fast, don’t ya think?” Gourry asked.

“Like we had a choice,” I muttered back “We’ll get out of this. We always do.”

“You are tied up, right?”

“Shut yer yappin’,” one of the men drawled. “Less talky more walky.” He was acting like this was the most boring job he’d ever had.

We were led deep into the bowels of the foul-smelling building and over to a grimy apartment building. The flickering torchlight brightened the interior of the empty room; molding mud-stained walls and the stink of raw garbage were among the place’s most charming features.

I had to hold my breath against the stink “Look,” I said to one of the rogues, “all I wanna know is if Clawfell’s really safe. I promise to shut up if you tell me.”

The rogue smirked. “You’ll be meetin’ him soon enough.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” I snapped.

The rogue snickered. “Don’t worry,” he assured in his sandpaper voice. “We won’t kill him until we get what we want.”

“Until he’s not useful to you anymore, you mean.”

“Think what you want, girlie.”

I had just about had it with all that girlie garbage. Someone was gonna have to pay the piper, courtesy of yours truly.

Gourry and I were led to the back of the room and out a door that looked like some sort of back exit. Beyond the door was a crumbling, winding stairway that led only one way—down.

“Oho; the basement, I see.”

“Shut up,” grunted the rogue.

We proceeded single file down the stone steps; the air becoming steadily more damp. A solitary door awaited us at the foot of the stairway

“We’re here,” the rogue snapped, then pushed open the door.

I froze.

Of all the people on the planet that could’ve been behind that door, he was probably in the bottom five with Phil and Shabranigdu.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Zuuma murmured. I stared at him, my eyes wide, my flesh crawling.

“What the—what do you want?” the rogue blurted. He clearly didn’t expect Zuuma, either. Maybe there was something (or someone) else hidden in that basement, but with Zuuma just behind the doorway, I couldn’t see a damn thing.

“I’m here to kill the girl,” Zuuma replied in his unflappable tone. “Give her to me.”

“Like hell!” barked the rogue. “You’re an assassin hired by that Kanzeil, ain’t ya? I’ve got news for ya—Kanzeil’s not a part of our team anymore, so that makes you unwelcome around here. And as for these two,” he gestured to Gourry and me, “they’re important prisoners of ours. So, you’d best get on outta here.”

It wasn’t as if the rogue had suddenly rushed to my defense. He just had his feathers ruffled by Zuuma, and now he wanted to mouth back. Too bad all he was really doing was hastening his own death.

“I see,” Zuuma uttered as he stepped out of the room, narrowing the gap between him and the masochistic smartass. “Since I have no allegiance to you whatsoever, it shall be an easy matter to do away with you.” Then, with a calm sort of malevolence, he floated slightly upward.

SWISH!

Something lashed out from Zuuma. It happened too fast for me to catch the details, but I really didn’t need any as the rogue’s body slumped to the floor… and his head rolled elsewhere.

Zuuma, still hovering just above the ground, pivoted in my direction.

Crap!

He flew in a graceful arc and deceptively fast. The other kidnappers had been thrown into total terror and confusion and frantically tried to rally for a fight. I didn’t have much time to think myself, so I stumbled backward, chanting a spell.

“Whaaa!” cried one of the men as he lunged toward Zuuma. Well, not so much lunged as got thrown. Gourry had managed to deliver a mule-kick straight into his back, sending the man headlong at Zuuma.

Caught off-guard by the body flung at him, Zuuma tried to dodge it. But the corridor was too narrow, and a second later the man’s airborne body crashed into Zuuma’s and sent the two of them tumbling back into the room.

“Why you!” yelled another rogue.

A mini mob of kidnappers stampeded past me and into the room, shouting curses and war cries amid the trampling of their boots. It gave me the chance to finish chanting my spell.

“Braham Fang!”

The Wind Arrows I shot sliced easily through the ropes binding Gourry. He didn’t waste any time rushing to the headless corpse, grabbing our confiscated swords, and running back to free me.

* * *

The battle was on its last legs by the time Gourry and I rushed past it. I wanted to know what the kidnappers had been storing in that place—and, sure enough, in the center of the cellar sat Clawfell, bound to a chair.

Finally! Time to get this show on the road!

Clawfell’s glum face switched to delight. “Oh!” he piped up. “You two!” He certainly looked fine, and it seemed safe enough to move toward him, but Gourry and I didn’t get the chance. A lighting spell illuminated the freshly killed bodies, strewn in tangled heaps all over the floor. And, in the midst, stood a less-than-apologetic Zuuma.

Gourry leaned in toward me. “Do you think we can beat that guy?” he whispered.

“Dunno,” I replied. I’m usually pretty sure about our chances going into a fight—and I usually know we’re going to win—but with Zuuma, the odds weren’t exactly in our favor.

Zuuma turned to us with the same malicious deliberation he’d had with his last beheading. “Step aside,” he told Gourry calmly.

Gourry positioned himself between me and Zuuma, his blade ready for combat. “You didn’t say ‘pretty please,’” he answered flatly.

Gourry slowly began to advance. Zuuma, probably sensing Gourry’s capabilities, moved carefully.

The thing that worried me the most was Zuuma’s darkness spell—the one he’d used back in my bedroom. If he cast it here, Gourry wouldn’t stand a chance.

I chose the best preventative measure I could think of: I sprinted across the room toward Clawfell.

Zuuma, startled at my sudden movement, diverted his attention to me for a spilt second. It was all the opportunity Gourry needed; charging with lightning speed, he slashed at the assassin with a loud cry. Zuuma barely leapt backward, but he still managed to dodge the reach of Gourry’s sword.

Damn!

But Gourry wasn’t deterred, and he wasn’t going to give Zuuma a chance to counterattack. He immediately charged and swung at Zuuma again, effectively backing the assassin up against the wall.

In a fight, you couldn’t find a smarter swordsman than Gourry; he had slashed with everything he had the second Zuuma was cornered. Unfortunately, Zuuma just dropped to the ground and rolled full force at Gourry.

Against your average opponent, a succession of kicks and sword swipes will stop him from rolling anywhere ever again. But against Zuuma, a stunt like that’ll only lead to you losing your foot.

Gourry quickly leapt backward to get some distance between him and Zuuma. With Gourry in retreat, Zuuma uncoiled himself, jumped to his feet, and began sprinting full speed—at me!

“Dammit!” I heard Gourry yell. I brandished my sword while hurriedly casting a spell. As Zuuma ran across the floor, he jumped up and, in a single motion, pushed his palms off the ceiling and propelled a powerful kick in my direction.

I didn’t feel like losing my head, so I didn’t dare attempt a counter-offense. Instead, to save my neck—quite literally—I flung myself away from Zuuma’s attack.

“Lighting!”

It took me a second to realize that neither Zuuma nor I had cast the spell. But Clawfell had!

The old guy couldn’t have picked a better time or aimed any truer. A brilliant orb of light shot across the room and slammed directly into Zuuma, burning his eyes.

“Arrgh!” Zuuma grunted as he buried his face in his hands.

I know how bad that hurts, buddy!

Zuuma staggered halfway across the room, reeling from the attack. He must’ve figured he was momentarily outmatched, because the next thing he did was back away toward the door. With a final hiss in our direction, he spun around on his heels and sprinted up the steps.

Gourry ran to the door with his sword in hand, but paused in the doorway. Like me, he figured we were in no position to pursue an enemy who could obviously have us for breakfast. “Looks like we chased him off,” Gourry said somewhat incredulously, peering up the stairway. “Who’da thought, huh?”

I got to untying the ropes that bound Clawfell to his chair. “I owe you my life, Mr. Clawfell,” I murmured as I worked. Honestly, if he hadn’t cast the lighting spell when he had, who knows if I’d still be around to tell the tale.

“Now, now,” said Clawfell pleasantly. “I’m the one who ought to be thanking you. That lighting spell is the only spell I know, and up ‘til now all it’s ever been good for is reading in the middle of the night.”

With a stiff grunt, Clawfell stood up from the chair. He tossed the loose rope away and rubbed his sore wrists. You could see the ruts and burns that the binding had left in them.

Wearily, Clawfell scanned the bodies strewn about the floor. “There must be survivors among the fallen here.”

Clawfell was right. After we checked the bodies, we found that a handful of them were merely unconscious. We couldn’t say the same for the others, though. Their butchered body parts were strewn about, mixed up like some morbid jigsaw puzzle. All in all, there were four survivors, so we immediately tied them up. One of them came to as Gourry was securing him. The rogue looked disoriented, and as he groaned and rolled his eyes, I could see him trying to figure out where he was and what had happened.

“Hiya,” I said, smacking him on the shoulder. “How you feelin’, old boy?” I tried to sound as ruthless as I could, which isn’t always easy when you’re as cute as I am.

“Y-you?” he breathed, his eyes bugging out of his head. “I get it now. That goddamn Kanzeil! He hired us and then double-crossed us!”

He trained his crazed eyes at me and then at Gourry. He looked so scared I almost felt sorry for him… but if he was under the impression that Kanzeil was behind what happened, Gourry and I weren’t about to correct him. The situation was beginning to turn in our favor, you could say.

“Oh, shut up!” I snapped. “You knew the risks when you took the job. Gotta watch your back in this business, got me?!” The prisoner stared at the dead on the floor—the pieces of them, I mean—and moaned, his lips trembling. “Are they… dead?”

No, they’re just unwinding after a long day!

“Do they look alive to you?!” I barked. “And if you’re not careful, pal, you’re gonna be joining them just like that!” I snapped my fingers commandingly. I can’t really snap that well, but I don’t think he noticed.

“No, please!” the rogue implored. “Spare me!”

“Then get talking. Who hired you?!”

“I-I don’t know!” he blurted. “Really! I’m not lying!”

A pretty standard attempt at denial by a desperate prisoner, and I wasn’t buying it.

“I see,” I said, a delicious iciness in my voice.

Man, I’m beginning to enjoy this!

“If you don’t know,” I continued, pacing slowly with my hands clasped behind my back, “then we have no choice.” I leaned forward, changing my tone to devilish. “There are three others alive here. I’ll just ask them.” And then, turning to Gourry, I said, “Why don’t you chop this one up? He’s no help to us.”

The prisoner’s face turned green.

Following my bluff, Gourry walked up behind him, ran a finger around the prisoner’s neck, then unsheathed his sword.

“Wait!” the man howled. “Wait! I’ll tell you anything! Whaddaya wanna know?!”

“But I thought you didn’t know anything?” I hummed.

“I’ll tell you everything I know! Please, just let me live!”

I folded my arms and paced around to make it appear as if I was considering the man’s appeal. Judge me if you will, but it was the most fun I’d had in a long time and I think I freakin’ earned it.

“Hmm,” I said at last. “All right, talk. If I like what I hear, I’ll spare you.”

“You wanna know who’s pullin’ the strings, right?!” the prisoner offered frantically. “You guys probably know him your-self. He’s one of those snot-nosed Royals; he always came to us in disguise and never said who he was. But I heard him talkin’ to Kanzeil once and Kanzeil said his name.”

I yawned. “We know it’s Christopher, so spare us the suspense, pal.”

“It’s not Christopher,” the rogue contested. He suddenly smiled, and might’ve even looked sly if he hadn’t still been shaking. “It’s Alfred.“

“What?!” Gourry, Clawfell, and I shouted in unison.

I blinked a few times and shook my head like I’d just fallen on it.

Alfred? Mr. Priss himself?

“It’s true,” our prisoner quickly assured us. “In fact, he’d badmouthed his dad every chance he got.”

“But Alfred was with us when we were attacked at the guesthouse,” I thought aloud. “Why would he have been there?!”

The prisoner smirked. Oh, yeah… that.”

Obviously he had some dirt to spill on that too.

“I know there was a team for that job picked out of our ranks. It was a last-minute thing, but with help from our palace contact, the team still snuck into the complex easily” The man paused for breath. “Anyway,” he went on, “they were instructed to attack once they got the signal—some sort of pounding. The only other instruction was to leave a certain someone unharmed.”

Some sort of pounding?

Of course! I remembered how Alfred—in a show of desperation—had slammed his fists on the table back in the guesthouse moments before the sabotage. All that hell breaking loose, and Alfred still got to look like an innocent victim.

The gears in my brain were beginning to turn. “What else?” I pressed the prisoner. While his tongue was loose, I wanted him to spill as much as he could.

“Our plans were going peachy at first. But; then Kanzeil started pullin’ his show-off crap, like launching his own attacks and messin’ up our strategy. Conspiracy’s an art, y’know? So we dropped him.”

“How’d Kanzeil and Alfred get to know each other, anyway?” I asked.

The prisoner shook his head. “How should I know? All I know is Alfred set this whole thing up.”

I had to admit the man’s story held up. Kanzeil had probably caught wind of my acquaintanceship with Phil; figuring I would help Phil if there were assassination attempts on him, Kanzeil smooth-talked Alfred into going after the throne.

So Kanzeil engineered an entire royal conspiracy just to get to me?

It seemed like a roundabout way to track me down… but, in Kanzeil’s defense, the task of finding someone with my kind of wanderlust and mad skills can be near impossible. “What else?” I asked the prisoner brusquely. “Speak up!” The man shook his head. Clearly, we’d wrung every drop from him.

So, we had our witness, which left us with hauling in the prisoners. The rogue had to repeat to Phil what he’d confessed to Gourry, Clawfell, and myself. The rest would be for Phil to decide. As for Gourry and me, our work would be done, and we could finally beat it out of Saillune City.

Only two nagging problems remained. For one: there was no shaking off Kanzeil and Zuuma—a showdown was coming, probably sooner rather than later. And as for the other problem…

Gourry must’ve sensed I was lost in thought. “What is it, Lina?” he asked. “You don’t look too happy. We got what we wanted, didn’t we?”

“Mmm,” I groaned. “Sorta.”

“You’re worried about Kanzeil, aren’t you?”

I inhaled deeply and nodded. No matter how upbeat things had turned out for us that night with Clawfell and the breakthrough regarding Alfred, it couldn’t supplant my fear of an inevitable fight with a Mazoku and his super-powerful assassin.

With the four survivors in tow, Gourry, Clawfell, and I made our way out of the building and back toward the Royal Palace. The streets outside were mistier and way too quiet. Which brought us to our second problem: Alfred’s thugs who might come at us with an attack more lethal than any of the previous attempts.

Why can’t a girl just go home and catch some shut-eye after a job well done? No rest for the weary, I tell ya.

Then, just ahead of us and right in our path, I noticed dark human shapes; about thirty or forty of them loomed in the fog. One of them stepped forward from the rest. I must admit I was a little surprised when I saw who it was.

“How nice of you to wait for us, Alfred,” I said flatly. He ran his fingers through his thick, styled locks and huffed at me with a toss of his head.

“I’ve indeed been eagerly awaiting you, my lady,” he drawled.

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Though I must admit, I didn’t expect you to show up in person. Awfully gracious of you to do us this honor.”

“My dear Lina,” he replied, “it was the least I could do to show my admiration for the little girl who found me out.”

“It must come as quite a shock,” I offered.

Alfred breathed through his flared nostrils, clearly aggravated. I was loving it.

“It’s been frustrating to no end,” Alfred said through gritted teeth, “to have one’s plans foiled at every turn.”

“It’s awfully late, Alfred. Shouldn’t you be putting your hair to bed?”

“Think you’re real cute, don’t you, darling?”

“I could go on all night if you like.”

“I think not.” Alfred’s scowl melted away, and was instead replaced with an icy smile. “I’m not in the mood for words. I’d rather watch you die.”

I drew my sword. “Bring it on,” I replied evenly.

From behind us, hidden in fog, an all-too-familiar voice intoned, “Let me handle the girl.”

Can’t this guy ever give it a rest?!

“Zuuma?” Alfred snorted. “Well… so long as she ends up dead, I don’t care who does it. But this doesn’t mean I like you!” Alfred pointed as menacingly as a priss can manage. “And it doesn’t mean I forgive you for butting into my plans!”

Alfred’s little display of super-villainy was getting sadder by the moment. I turned around to the much bigger threat. Zuuma stood not far behind us, shrouded in fog and clad in black. Our way had become barricaded on both sides by very unfriendly forces.

Which meant violence, and lots of it.

“Let’s cut the crap and get down to business,” Gourry said boldly. He drew his Sword of Light and aimed its tip at Zuuma. “If you wanna fight Lina, you’re gonna have to get through me first.”

Zuuma fell silent for a moment, turning his gaze from Gourry to me, then back to Gourry. “Then through you I shall go,” he answered at last.

Zuuma was an incredibly skilled assassin, but there was no way he could take me out with Gourry all over him. He probably figured he had to focus his energies on Gourry while Alfred kept me busy. He and Gourry stared at each other, on guard and deliberately unmoving.

Alfred impatiently smacked his palms together. “Anytime, gentlemen! I want to get to bed soon!”

Speaking of getting to bed.

“Sleeping!” I had to prevent the prisoners from butting into my business.

As they passed out, Gourry leapt for Zuuma, and I charged the mob. And yes, it was a rather impressive bit of unspoken coordination—thank you for noticing.

“Attack!” commanded Alfred.

The ranks of soldiers, silhouetted in the fog, suddenly began to charge like one giant wave. But I had already begun chanting, so I plunged right into them with my sword.

“Mega Brand!”

A ripple erupted in the stone paving beneath the thugs’ feet. The ground itself heaved, flipping and hurling hoodlums skyward. That took care of quite a few of them and gave me a chance to pull back and prepare my next spell.

Should I just take Alfred hostage? I wondered as I chanted. But that entailed the risk of Alfred’s men taking Clawfell hostage, and I wasn’t in the mood for a ring of hostage-taking. Oh, well—direct is usually best.

“Van Ga Ruim!” Alfred suddenly shouted, his arms raised high above him,

An insectlike buzz radiated from a black mist forming around Alfred’s feet. Inhuman shapes began to rise from the darkness, quivering ominously.

Shadow beasts! Lovely.

Shadow beasts are low-ranking demons summoned from the astral plane. They’re like zombies or leaches, attaching themselves to targets to drain out life force, They’re pretty unstable creatures that’ll fizzle out in half a day without anything to suck on, but that didn’t make my situation any better.

Shadow beasts may be low-ranking, but physical attacks and elemental magic still do zilch against them. And it was too late for me to change my spell.

“Fireball!” I yelled.

I knew full well that inflicting fireballs on shadow beasts was a big waste of time, so I shifted the direction of my attack toward the thugs. “Break!” I commanded, focusing my attentions on the orb.

The fireball fragmented into ten tinier balls, each of which caused a petite but potent explosion. It had the desired effect, sending the rogues scattering in all sorts of directions.

The good news: half the guys were knocked out of commission or dead. The bad news: the other half was getting more desperate. What I really needed was time—if the city guardsmen caught wind of the melee, they’d surely come running and give me the advantage I was seeking.

One of the goons slashed at me, but I managed to parry his blade with mine and push him away. That gave me a fraction of a second to work my magic.

“Dust Chip!”

Pockets of air surrounding the lamppost lights began to glitter. I ducked out of the way.

A huge array of ice darts—all shiny, pointy, and about the size of a big toe—shot out at my attackers. They aren’t really lethal, of course, but they still hurt like hell.

“Diem Wing!” It was Alfred this time. He’d chanted a shockwave spell: a violent gust of wind meant to knock opponents off balance. It’s a difficult spell to evade because of its wide area, so all I could do to minimize its impact was leap as far away from its center (Alfred) as I could.

Whoosh!

A spasm of wind raged past me as the shockwave surged through. I couldn’t catch my breath for the few seconds that it hit; that was enough for the shadow beasts to start closing in.

Dammit! I thought as I regripped my sword. If I could just get a minute to chant a good spell, I could raze those shadow beasts without a problem. But Alfred’s strategy, it seemed, was to deploy his spells in short bursts just to keep me off my groove.

“Ugh!”

My blood went cold. Clawfell! I spun around to see his sword spin through the air before clattering on the ground.

Clawfell was attempting to stumble away from an advancing thug. The rogue cackled like an evil ten-year-old, raising his sword above his head as I quickly chanted a support spell.

“Say your prayers, gramps!” he cried.

“Braham Blazer!” A blue flare of light blazed through the night and mowed down the thug just in time. It was very dramatic and awfully slick, but there was just one problem: I didn’t cast the spell.

Even Alfred was shocked. “What?” he exclaimed, frantically looking around. “Who threw that?!”

A silhouette stood poised on the second-floor verandah of a dilapidated house. The figure stepped into the light and folded her arms.

Yeah, I was as surprised as you are.

“Hmph!” Amelia uttered, her priestess robes swishing. “You, of all people, need to ask?”