Human Life: Meet, Depart, Rinse, Repeat

Human Life: Meet, Depart, Rinse, Repeat

There, in a small clearing, stood a young man. He looked around twenty years old and seemed of medium stature—neither too short nor tall, thin nor fat—with a head of silky black hair cropped just below his chin. He wore the black robes common to all priests and held a priest’s staff that looked right out of the discount bin. I considered his features fairly handsome, though there wasn’t anything remarkable about them save for the rather out-of-place smile on his lips.

“Who is this?” sneered Balgumon. If Balgumon didn’t know who the guy was, then our mystery man wasn’t an ally of the Mazoku cult. Then who…

“We have a history,” Felds snapped, “which I’m going to dose the book on by chopping him into little pieces.” With that, Feltis began slowly striding forward. His eyes flared with bloodlust, and I was surprised to not see steam spurting out of his ears.

I was as baffled as Balgumon and Amelia—but, speaking for myself, I had absolutely no interest in getting caught up in things. I began to retreat slowly out of the vicinity of the deadly showdown-to-be.

“Please, Mister Feltis,” the priest appealed, “let’s not fight, hm? I’ve come here for a reason, and it’s certainly not to kill you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Feltis growled. “I’ve been waiting for this, you bastard! Your spells won’t work on the likes of me!”

“Mmm,” the priest hummed. “I suppose if you feel that strongly, then you leave me no choice.” He began casting a spell, the calm smile never leaving his face.

I could hear his incantation. As spells go, it had an odd beginning.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Feltis roared. In the blink of an eye, he was upon the priest and slashing down with his long sword.

CLANG!

The beast-man was thrown back from the priest and sent tumbling through the brush.

“Wha—?!” was my immediate and less-than-insightful response. Feltis had been blown back by nothing more than the spell’s magic field.

See, when a spell’s being cast, a magic wall (sort of like a force field) surrounds the caster. The wall is generally stronger for stronger attack spells, but only to a point; to give you an idea, the Dragon Slave, said to be the most powerful attack spell, provides a wall that still can’t withstand a third-rate sorcerer’s fireball or a first-rate swordsman’s slashes.

Until right then, I’d never seen an attacker—especially one as powerful-looking as Feltis—deflected by a magic field alone. What the hell was that priest chanting?

“W-what happened?!” Feltis stammered as he staggered to his feet. As he did so, the priest delicately pointed a finger at him and released the Power Words.

“Blast Bomb!”

As the air whooshed and whined, dozens of balls of light sprung forth around the priest. Then they tore through the air, spiraling to converge directly where he pointed.

That’s when my inner voice gave me a simple and desperate instruction: Duck!

I hit the ground as the balls of light slammed into the very unlucky Feltis.

KA-BOOOOOOOOM!

The massive roar was followed by a concussive shockwave and, finally, by a blast of overheated air. The hands I slapped over my ears barely managed to keep my eardrums from bursting.

“Nngh!” I grunted, cringing tight and low to the ground. After the air quieted, I tentatively opened my eyes.

The first thing I realized was that Feltis was gone. Well, not so much gone as reduced to a smattering of orange-colored powder. That was an eerie sign that he’d been vaporized—a sign scattered all over the bushes and twigs near where he’d been standing.

I considered that maybe he’d escaped and the dust was just cumin, but that was probably just my humane side talking. Pretty impressive firepower for your average priest, I thought, then suddenly stopped.

Balgumon and Amelia were gone!

For a second, I panicked and thought they’d gotten in the path of the attack. A sudden horrifying mental image of me delivering a box of paprika with my condolences to Phil crossed my mind. Once I thought for a moment, though, I doubted they’d been hit directly. They’d probably just been swept away by the blast.

“My, my,” the priest said clicking his tongue, like a waiter had goofed up his order of scrambled eggs. “It seems the other one got away”

His tone was more amused than agitated. He scratched his head, his face skewed into mild perplexity.

I think I’ve met my first sociopath.

“Mm… just as well,” he murmured as he turned to glance in my direction. He brightened.

“Excuse me!” he called politely. “I realize this is an awkward question, but do you happen to know where that group from before congregates?”

I admit it—the man creeped me out. Doing that much damage while smiling a happy li’l smile made me think he was some sort of runaway nutcase. Then it suddenly occurred to me, like a lighting spell flicking on in my brain, just who he might be.

“Hey,” I said, looking curiously at the priest. “Y-you’re Rei Magnus, aren’t you?!”

The priest literally fell over. Surprise can do that to some people.

“W-where in the world,” he asked slowly, “did you get an idea like that?” He used his staff to prop himself back up.

“There’s only one person I know of who can use the Blast Bomb, and that’s Rei Magnus. That makes you him!”

“I see,” the priest replied. “But Rei Magnus was a sorcerer who lived five thousand years ago, you realize.”

“Details, shmetails,” I scoffed. “What’s a millennium or two among sorcerers? You can live as long as you want if you’ve got the guts!”

“And what sort of life-extending magic guts might those be?” he asked, his brows raised whimsically. “In any case, I already have a perfectly good name. I am Xelloss.”

Xelloss? Never heard of you.

“Hunh.” I pondered his answer. “And exactly what are you?”

“A mysterious priest,” he replied cryptically without missing a beat.

I paused. That was a weird thing to say. “And what’s Feltis and his group to you?”

“They’re my enemies.”

He wasn’t giving me much to work with. He must’ve sensed my skepticism, because he smiled again.

“You don’t trust me?” he asked.

“Being the enemy of my enemy doesn’t make you my ally” “Well…” Xelloss shrugged. “That’s certainly true.” “Besides,” I went on, “I haven’t trusted priests for a while now. Long story.”

Xelloss looked me over. “You do seem the ‘long story’ type.” Okay, let’s not get smarmy.

“Anyway,” I said sharply, “besides all that, I wanna know about those amulets you’re wearing. They’re talismans, aren’t they?” “What do you mean?” Xelloss asked, feigning ignorance. “Those,” I insisted, pointing at them. “That gem hanging from your neck, and the one on your belt buckle, and the two in your bracelets. You’re using all four of them as capacity amplifiers, aren’t you?”

“My,” Xelloss drawled, “you’ve got quite the sharp eye.” He actually seemed impressed, and he had shed the holier-than-thou attitude just the slightest bit, which was nice.

Sorcerers have been researching capacity amplifiers for ages, but I’d never heard of anyone successfully applying I he concept. I’d researched them myself, but all I’d come up with was that amplifiers could theoretically work with the simplest of spells. Something told me Xelloss didn’t need help with those.

But since he was playing dumb, I decided to press the case. You cast a short spell,” I said, “just before you started the Blast Bomb. I’m pretty sure the short spell was for magic amplification, but if it was that easy to make a capacity amplifier, every sage in the world wouldn’t be going nuts trying to do it. In other words, that spell was caused by something else.”

Xelloss smiled. “Is that why you think these are talismans?” “Yeah. So what are they made of? They can’t be normal jewels.”

Xelloss cocked his head as he pondered my question. “Honestly,” he said, “I’m not really sure. They were gifts, you see.” As he looked at me with that pleasant expression on his face, I wondered if he had a brain inside that skull.

Speaking of empty skulls, I suddenly remembered Gourry I hoped he was all right.

Xelloss glanced at the talismans. “They’re supposedly Demon Bloodstones. Ruby Eye, Dark Star, Chaotic Blue, and Death Fog—from the Demon Lord of this world, and three Demon Lords of other worlds.”

That was enough to blow anyone’s mind, even a mind as sharp as mine.

“D-Demon Lords of other worlds?!” I stuttered. My jaw dropped and my eyes bugged out of my head. “No way! Is that really true?!”

“I’m not sure,” Xelloss repeated. “That’s what they tell me.” “Who?” I asked quickly, feeling like a startled owl. “Who tells you?”

“It’s a s-e-c-r-e-t,” he calmly replied, wagging his finger at me.

I scowled. Don’t make me smack the smart out of you, jerky. “Well, they’re definitely unique, whatever they are.” A thought suddenly hit me; I clasped my hands together.

“That’s it!” I exclaimed. “You should sell them to me!” Xelloss blinked. “Why in the world would I do a thing like that?” he asked in response to my excellent idea.

“Because I want them, duh. Look—I’ll pay you five hundred and fifty for them. I mean, seriously, that’s an awesome price! Aren’t I generous? You could buy yourself a rapier with that kind of money!”

Xelloss just laughed. “Five hundred and fifty thousand and they’re yours.”

Without hesitating, I shot back, “Sold!”

“Huh?” Xelloss froze, and I swear the word JACKASS appeared over his head in neon lights.

“You said you’d sell them for five hundred and fifty thousand, right?” I grabbed the sack from my back, unfurled it, and began taking various magical items out.

“Let’s see,” I mused aloud. “One bundle of crowley roots, two meltian medicines, one radilin ring, remtite ore, live bags of mustaal powder… oh, and what the hell, I’ll even throw in a crufer pill! At any major city,” I explained, squinting my eyes and pinching my fingers like a shrewd merchant, “you could sell these for well over five hundred and fifty thousand, no question. It seems we’ve got ourselves a deal.”

But Xelloss just started gibbering. “Oh… ran… well…” “Don’t tell me you don’t wanna sell after we agreed on a price fair and square.” I gave Xelloss a stare that stabbed right through his pupils.

“But… um…”

STAB.

Finally, his eyes lowered and his shoulders drooped. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured.

Score!

With a resigned sigh, Xelloss removed the four talismans and reluctantly handed them over.

“You may as well know,” he told me, “that to use the amplifiers, hold them in front of you in a cross posture while chanting the Amplification spell before the spell you wish to use. As for the Amplification spell—”

“That’s fine,” I cut in, waving him off. “I already heard you chant it. I’ll take it from here.”

“Huh?” Xelloss blurted. He made a little cooing noise in his throat. I think I impressed him.

I have that effect on men, ya see.

“That’s really something,” he said. “Remembering a spell you’ve only heard once, even if it is a short one.”

“I guess,” I replied somewhat cockily. Then, just so I didn’t seem too cocky, I added, “I did a little research into this stuff awhile back.”

I put the talismans on. They may not have worked for me fashion-wise, but with power comes sacrifice.

“Research?” Xelloss asked. “Does that mean you’re a sorceress?”

I raised an eyebrow. “The outfit didn’t tip you off?”

Xelloss shrugged. “I thought maybe you were just eccentric. Or playing dress-up.”

“Hey!”

“Okay, okay.” Xelloss held out his hands as if to apologize. “But you didn’t use any magic in the battle earlier. Was there a particular reason for that?”

I winced. Way to hit me when I’m down, I wanted to tell him, although I wasn’t sure I wanted to share the ugly truth at all. After thinking a second, I figured it wasn’t going to change much.

“My spells,” I said with a sigh, “got sealed.”

Xelloss delicately gripped his chin. “So there’s someone here with the power to do that, is there?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “She’s part of the jerk squad. Calls herself Mazenda.”

Xelloss looked at me like I’d just sprouted three heads. “Ehhhhhhhhhhhh?!” he cried, taking two staggering steps back. “Miss Mazenda’s one of them?!”

“W-wait a minute!” I shook my head and waved at him to calm down. “You mean you know her?!” Surprises were flying fast and furious that day.

Xelloss straightened himself with his staff. He paused a moment, then scratched his head.

“Well, sort of,” he explained. “But right now, it seems that we’re enemies.”

Did he say seems? “I’m sensing complications.”

“Indeed.” Xelloss glanced around, then added, “But this isn’t a very good place for conversation.” He dumped the items I’d given him into a satchel. “Why don’t we go to the nearest village and continue this there?”

“Great,” I replied as I rubbed my stomach appreciatively. “All this talk is making me hungry.”

* * *

The closest village had a decent tavern, so we went and grabbed some breakfast. It was around noon by the time we finished, so the morning crowd had gone and the lunch-goers were still at their day jobs. For the moment, we had the place almost to ourselves.

“That’s quite a fix you’ve gotten yourself into,” Xelloss commented as he looked into his hot milk. “If the story you just told me is true, of course.”

I nodded and went back to sipping my tea. “Truth is stranger than fiction, they always say.”

“But if your spells are sealed,” Xelloss said, “doesn’t that make buying my talismans rather meaningless?”

“No,” I answered flatly. You’re not buying them back, if that’s what you mean. “Once a day I’ve tried to cast a lighting spell, and the good news is that the seal seems to be getting weaker. The bad news is that a candle-level light’s not gonna do much in a fight.” I slumped back in my chair and glanced at my new acquisitions, stowed away in my bag. “I figure that with those talismans, I might be able to handle some basic attack spells.”

“I see,” Xelloss said with a nod. “But for the seal to be breaking down like this…” He shook his head. “Either Miss Mazenda went easy on you, or your magic capacity is unusually large.”

Both, I hoped.

“Whatever it is,” I said, “my main concern right now is finding Gourry.” I paused a second, then frowned. “Well, maybe Gourry can fend for himself; I should probably worry more about Amelia.”

Xelloss waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

I glared at him. “And what makes you so sure of that, Mister Omniscient?”

He took a sip of his hot milk. “When you faced Feltis and Balgumon this morning, they could have easily disposed of Miss Amelia on the spot, correct?”

I nodded slowly, putting together the pieces of what Xelloss had said.

“If we assume he fled after the Blast Bomb,” Xelloss continued, “and that, since we didn’t find either of them, he took her with him, he must have some purpose for her. After all, a hostage slows a retreat; you don’t take one unless you need one.”

“So he wants to use her as bait. To get me.”

Xelloss nodded over his milk.

I tilted my head as far back as it could go and sighed. “I could’ve told you that,” I muttered. “Use her to lure me to them? That’s the oldest trick in the book. But at least that means she’s safe for the moment.”

“Since Miss Mazenda is with the enemy,” he added, “they may have sealed Amelia’s magic to keep her cooperative. It’s far less painful than, say, crushing her windpipe.”

Xelloss looked away, mulling the situation over. “Furthermore, should you decide to attack them, they can use Miss Amelia as a shield. Though I’m sure they’d rather dispose of her after defeating you; it’s logical to assume that they’re planning to sacrifice her.”

I almost choked on my tea. “S-sacrifice?!” I blurted. “Mmm,” Xelloss replied, perfectly composed. “The enemy is a religious organization, after all. You know how extreme religions are quite fond of elaborate sacrifices to their gods. And they worship quite a god, don’t they? The Demon Lord himself!” Xelloss leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and clasping his fingers together. “It doesn’t take much to see what I’m getting at.”

“Are you talking about a human sacrifice?!” I squeaked, my voice tiny in my throat.

“Precisely. In theory, a human sacrifice should be young and beautiful. I sincerely doubt they’d harm and potentially waste a captive who fit that profile.”

Xelloss smiled wryly, but behind his eyes I sensed bitterness. “Though I suppose,” he said quietly, “humans who happily worship Mazoku are capable of anything.”

I pushed away my tea. “Well, a lot of people will have their fun so long as somebody else picks up the tab. If the righteous gods won’t grant you your selfish desires, why not turn to worshipping the Demon Lord instead?”

“Why not indeed,” Xelloss answered solemnly.

“But there’s always the chance she’s just bait. How sure are you about the sacrifice thing?”

“Quite sure,” Xelloss replied. “Master Krotz is thoroughly pragmatic.”

“Krotz?” I repeated. The name sounded familiar.

“He’s their leader. Or their founder, if you will.”

Oh. Right.

It was the name Balgumon had mentioned at the assembly the other night. Talking about what the cult intended to do with

Amelia was getting a bit too creepy, though. I decided to turn my attention to Xelloss and put him in the hot seat for a minute.

“So,” I said, staring straight at him. “What business do you have with that nasty little mob?”

“I had a tussle with them near Raizeel.” He paused, then took a breath. “To make a long story short, Master Krotz stole an object of mine and brought it back here, to his stronghold.”

Well, I’ll give him points for brevity.

“That was an impressively short summary,” I quipped, but I wasn’t done grilling him yet. “What’s this so-called ‘object’ he stole?”

Xelloss smiled. “It’s not much of anything, really,” he said, but he was lying. It was easy to tell from the way he averted his gaze and took an exaggeratedly long slurp of his milk.

“Hang on,” I snapped. “You can’t tell me it’s some unimportant doodad after I saw you vaporize Feltis. Spit it out.”

Xelloss mumbled some more, but it was obvious I was wearing him down. “Er… um…” He leaned forward and said quietly, “Just a manuscript. Nothing special.”

Manuscript? What kind of—wait. It’s not… it couldn’t be … Lina, don’t get excited!

“No way!” I blurted and shot out of my seat like my butt was on fire.

“Miss Lina!” Xelloss suddenly looked unnerved. “Not so loud!”

I took a second to pull myself together, and shakily sat back down. As Xelloss nervously cleared his throat, I noticed the tavernkeeper giving us a shifty, suspicious gaze from the other side of the room.

I leaned in. “Manuscript?” I asked in a low, harsh whisper. “You mean, that manuscript?”

Xelloss frowned. “Well, perhaps. If we’re talking about the same manuscript.”

I took a deep breath. “The Claire Bible?” Just the name sent a shiver through me.

Xelloss nodded curtly.

* * *

The Claire Bible is a magic book, a legend among sorcerers, the very book in which Mazoku record their secrets of sorcery. It’s an ancient tome and an absolute one-of-a-kind, though a number of incomplete copies exist in various places; in sorcerer-talk, those portions are referred to as “manuscripts.” In spite of strong evidence, there are even some who refuse to believe the Claire Bible actually exists, but I happened to know it did.

Awhile back, my big sis from the countryside and I went on a trip to the Kingdom of Dils. While there, we heard a legend about a manuscript that was once kept in the royal palace, at least until someone—some absolute numbskull if you ask me—burned it. Fortunately, the contents of the manuscript survived, and I was lucky enough to hear some of those sacred contents recited while I was there. A lot of it was a load of crap, but on a lark I tried combining two of the spells I heard.

And got the Giga Slave.

You know, the spell that draws on the power of the Demon Lord of Demon Lords, the Lord of Nightmares? The spell that brings a great void into the world? That one.

Giga Slave’s destructive power is well beyond even that of the Dragon Slave, which is supposedly the most powerful spell a human can wield. The fact that the Giga Slave worked proved the Claire Bible’s existence. But I never reported my discovery to the Sorcerers’ Guild.

Still, there were so many fake manuscripts floating around that the one Xelloss and the cult fought over could have easily been a dud. I had to consider it.

“This ‘manuscript,’“ I asked him, tapping a finger on the table for emphasis. “Is it the real deal? There are lots of villages that say they have authentic manuscripts just to boost tourism.”

“Ah,” Xelloss uttered, nodding. “There are plenty of fakes, I’ll give you that. Many a casual collector will spend a fortune on a tome labeled The Legendary Magic Book and not bother to notice it’s an ancient book of cake mixes.” He drew closer to me and whispered, “But I’m sure about this one. It’s most certainly real.”

Xelloss paused for me to take in the certainty of his claim. “I admit,” he added, “that I’m only going on intuition. But for Master Krotz to seize the manuscript with a force of half his followers, and then place it solely in his care while transporting it back to his stronghold…” He smiled. “He must feel very strongly about its authenticity.”

Xelloss’s logic felt a bit strained, but I was willing to let it slide. There was a more important question to get to.

“All right,” I began, leveling a steely gaze at him. “Then what are the contents of this manuscript? And more important, what are you gonna do with it if you get it?”

Xelloss paused. “Well,” he said at last, looking a bit perplexed, “there are various circumstances on my side related to that. And I’m afraid there are things I can say and things I cannot.

“However,” he offered, “I can promise you this: I absolutely will not use the manuscript for evil purposes.”

I rolled my eyes. How many times have I heard that one?

I obviously wasn’t about to swallow his righteous act and make him godfather of my kids, but at least he seemed genuinely opposed to Krotz and his demon-worshipping cronies. With Gourry MIA and my magic weak and unreliable, I needed Xelloss as an ally, if only temporarily.

“Fine,” I said, as diplomatically as I could. “I won’t push it. But what the hell do Krotz and his people want the manu­script for?”

Xelloss smiled at my question—a dark, acidic little smile. “Asking me that,” he said softly, “puts me on the spot, I’m afraid. But this religious organization probably doesn’t have the well-being of the world’s population high on its list of objectives, wouldn’t you say?”

It wasn’t much of an answer, but he had a point. “Fine,” I replied, and that brought me to my point. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“I’m guessing you’d like to join forces with me for a bit.” He’s not as idiotic as his smiles; I’ll give him that.

“You got it. I don’t know where the cult’s stronghold is, but I can lead you to their meeting place; it’s not far from here. And knowing I have an ally right now will help me sleep a little easier.”

“Very well.” Xelloss nodded. “And with Miss Mazenda among the enemy, we can’t possibly ignore them.”

“There’s a special problem with her, I take it?”

Xelloss put his finger to his lips. “It’s a secret.”

I was going to come to hate that line.

* * *

By late evening, I was absolutely exhausted. I used an alias to secure lodging at a nearby inn, and by the time I managed to drag myself up the stairs to my room, I was barely able to pull off my boots before collapsing into bed.

Unfortunately, my enemies didn’t feel like allowing me the twelve or more hours of sleep I felt entitled to. I was suddenly jolted awake by a burning bloodlust nearby—burning, as you’ll soon see, being the operative word.

What the hell is going on?!

In the darkness, I snatched up my sword and reached for the mantle lying across a corner of my bed. Then, just at that moment:

FWOOSH!

A stupendous shockwave almost flung me off the bed as I donned my mantle. Jumping to my feet, I bolted for the door and pulled it open.

I recoiled from the intense heat and the acrid smell of burning wood. As I staggered, another tremor shook the inn as an explosion tore into the building from somewhere nearby. It felt like the whole joint was going to fall right off its foundations. Another explosion jacked up the heat another notch, and from the hallway I saw the stairway suffused in an ominous orange glow. It was clear to my finely tuned senses that that was a sign to keep the hell away!

Someone was attacking the inn—that much was abundantly clear. And who were they after, you ask?

Everyone’s favorite target: me. And maybe Xelloss, considering the circumstances.

I ran back into my room, cast a levitation spell, and jumped out the window…

… completely forgetting about my magic being sealed.

CRASH! Thwack-thwack-thwack CRUNCH!

“Owowowow!”

I had managed to float for about half a second before my weakened powers gave out. Luckily, there was a tree outside my window and hitting the branches slowed my fall enough that I escaped with no more than some scratches and bruised pride.

And, stupid me, I forgot about using the talismans, too.

With some effort and a lot of cursing, I managed to extricate myself from the low-lying tangle of branches. As

I jumped to the ground, pulling twigs and leaves from my hair, I noticed the last person I wanted to see standing not far away.

“It’s been awhile,” Mazenda drawled in her condescending tone. A hint of a smile curved her red lips. “Balgumon told me who you are. You’re the Lina Inverse?”

She took a step closer to me. In the light of the flames that consumed the inn, I could see the glimmer of evil in her eyes.

“A-Amelia,” I managed to stutter. “Are Amelia and Gourry all right?” As she took another step, I retreated instinctively from the overpowering and unpleasant aura the woman gave off. The sweat streaking down my forehead wasn’t just because of the fire; Mazenda herself made me extremely nervous.

“Ah, the girl is all right,” Mazenda purred. “At least, she should be. I don’t know about the other one.”

“What did the beast-man tell you?” I demanded, trying to sound as plucky as I could. “Vedur, or whatever his name is.”

Mazenda’s ruby locks tossed in the hot wind like flickering tongues of flame. She took another step forward; I took another back.

“I haven’t spoken with him,” she said dismissively. “Only with Balgumon. I admit I was surprised to learn who you are. If I’d known that you were Lina Inverse, I would’ve killed you during our first encounter instead of toying with you like this.”

“You think it was smart to set fire to an entire inn just to get to me? You’re not very subtle, are you?” I held my ground. “Or maybe you’re just stupid.”

At least if she kills me now, I managed to insult her first.

A thoughtful expression came over Mazenda’s face.

Actually,” she said, more seriously, “Balgumon also told me there was someone else with you. A mysterious priest, was it?” She chuckled unpleasantly. “But I fear I won’t have the pleasure of meeting him. He’s nothing but cinders now.”

“Not quite,” I said, staring past her. “Look behind you.” Mazenda burst out laughing. “Do you really expect me to fall for that pathetic trick?” she asked. “Please!”

“Behind you, Miss Mazenda.”

Upon hearing his voice, the smile dropped from Mazenda’s lips and an expression of alarm froze her face. “It… it can’t be,” she breathed.

Slowly, she turned her head. It didn’t take long for her to notice the black-robed priest standing behind her.

“Xelloss!” she shrieked. “W-what are you doing here?!”

“I ought to ask you the same thing,” Xelloss said with a pained smile. “I never dreamed I’d find you an active member of a Demon Lord cult.” He took a deep, thoughtful breath. “But, since we’re here, you do know what your founder is up to, don’t you? What he’s returning with?”

Mazenda’s eyes grew wide. “You mean Krotz actually has it? He’s coming back with…” Her quivering voice trailed off! as the shock overwhelmed her.

“Yes.” Xelloss bobbed his head. “The Claire Bible.” After a pause, he continued in a quieter tone, “You and I are enemies because of this. Even if we weren’t, I couldn’t let you get away with stealing my manuscript, now could I?”

“W-what do you intend to do?” Mazenda asked feebly as she stepped back. I was glad to see her cut down to size; this woman, who just minutes ago had been able to terrorize me with her aura alone, had been reduced to a sniveling weasel.

Xelloss laughed. “As if there was any doubt.” The smile on his face pitilessly mocked Mazenda’s fear.

“N-no!” Mazenda shrieked. She suddenly turned, ran toward the fiery inn, and plunged into the raging inferno through a broken window.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is fear.

“Hey!” I cried, lurching forward. As I did, Xelloss gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Xelloss!” I yelled angrily “What the hell’s going on here?!”

Xelloss didn’t answer my question. He just kept his eyes fixed on the walls of flames before him.

“I’m going to follow her,” he said after a moment.

“What?! Into the fire?!”

“For now, yes.”

“Are you nuts?!” Xelloss was losing it. Well, if he’d ever had it to begin with. “She’s gotta be burned to a crisp by now!”

“No, it’s all right. This fire isn’t enough to kill her.”

Well, hell. Sorry, Xelloss—my mistake.

“In any case,” he added, straightening himself, “I’ll be following her from now on. I’ll manage somehow.”

“I repeat: are you out of your mind? What do you mean ‘somehow’?!”

“Meaning, that I’ll free your spells up eventually. So please don’t worry” From the look on his face, he seemed to be the calmest, most determined guy I’d ever met considering what he was quite literally about to jump into.

Xelloss placed a hand on my shoulder. “I apologize for breaking up our partnership so soon after we formed it, but I absolutely must go. Now, can you give me any hint as to where that stronghold might be?”

“Uh, Mane,” I blurted. “It’s somewhere around there.” “Thank you. We shall meet again soon.” With that, he walked up to the fiery inn, smiled back at me once, and then leapt through the window and into the flames.

I stood a safe distance away and watched the fire consume the building for the next several minutes. Try as I might, I could see nothing moving inside the crackling flames.

“What the hell just happened here?” I muttered to myself. In the back of my mind, a funny thought occurred to me: what if, in the morning, I came back to find two bodies charred to a crisp in the ruins of the inn?

Okay, maybe not funny so much as gross and disturbing.

The next day, I decided to head straight for Mane Village. After splitting from Xelloss the night before—or, I should say, after him leaving me to rush suicidally into a burning building—I decided it might be best if I disguised myself before continuing.

I’ve never been one for complicated disguises. Usually, I just wear ordinary village girl’s clothes, braid my hair, and try to look harmless. This almost always works, because most of the people I have to hide from are very, very stupid.

This situation was no exception. As long as I didn’t run into Vedur or Balgumon, I doubted any of the cult’s goons had the mental capacity to blow my cover. After all, most of my pursuers had no clue what I looked like—just that I was a tough-looking sorceress about fifteen or sixteen years old. As long as I looked like a wimpy, ordinary girl, I could easily fool the lot of them.

If only I was better at acting girly, I’d be all set!

I’ve never been the type to wear skirts and dressy shoes and all that impractical feminine junk, so my awkward gait probably drew more attention than I intended. Seriously, though, I knew that once I got the walk down, it’d be a great disguise.

My plan of action was to first find Gourry, then retrieve my spells with Xelloss’ covert help, and, if my luck held out, meet up with Xelloss once I got to Mane. The problem with this plan was that it assumed that nothing unexpected would occur in the short term, which has never happened. Ever.

Oh, and a few tests before leaving proved that I could cast a fireball-level spell if I used the talismans and Amplification. I still only had the power of a rookie sorcerer, but it was better than nothing.

“Hey, you! Woman!”

The man’s voice that interrupted my planning sounded annoyed.

“Come over here,” it ordered from the roadside.

I turned in his direction and affected a startled look. “Come over there? W-Why?”

The group of thugs that emerged from the woods consisted of five men, all of them masked. It wasn’t surprising; I’d expected to run into cult goons at some point, and I could take on five opponents even without my spells.

But what made me hesitate was the thought of Vedur, the beast-man, and how I’d have to deal with him once word about me got out. Vedur wasn’t someone to mess with when you weren’t at full power.

“Who the hell’re you?” the man asked. “And where’re you going?”

Time to bluff my way out of this. I swallowed my pride and pretended to shiver and wince nervously at his questions. The man doing the talking held a long sword, and I didn’t want to get any closer to it.

“I-I-I’m… Lily,” I stammered. “I’m taking a package for someone in Saillune.”

“Huh,” the man huffed. He looked me over from head to toe in a way that seriously tested my restraint; I would’ve liked nothing more than to punch his ugly face in. As he checked me out, one of his flunkies glared at me and said: “Have I seen you somewhere before?”

THUMP.

My heart skipped a beat. Had he been in the gang that had ambushed me earlier?

“Heh,” he cackled, “maybe we oughta do a full body search. Don’t ya think?”

Oh. For a second there I actually thought he was thinking with his brain.

The doofus didn’t actually remember me, he was just fishing for an excuse to peek at a seemingly helpless girl. Disgusting letch! I tried to remember his face so I could kill him later.

Unfortunately, the pack on my back held my mantle, clothing, and all my magic items, and I’d stashed my sword and its sheath under my clothes. My cover would get blown the second anyone opened my pack Time for a new plan.

“Hmph!” I huffed with a sneer. “I’m definitely not impressed.” I laughed in a way that I hoped was both conde­scending and dainty.

“Hey!” the first man growled. “What’s with the attitude, slut?!”

Now, normally, I’d have reacted to anyone talking to me like that with a swift kick to the squish. But I managed to stay composed and in character.

“If you’re all Mazenda’s got, I can understand why she called me here.”

“Wha—?” the man blurted, not sure whether to be angry or embarrassed. Mentioning Mazenda by name had certainly caught them off-guard. “Just what the hell do you mean by that?”

“What do you think I mean? Mazenda and I go way back. She sent me a message informing me of a situation, and asked for my help on the matter. So here I am.”

The men spoke briefly among themselves. The first of them to break from the huddle asked me, “Really?”

“If you don’t believe me,” I said sharply, “then I’ll be on my way home.” I turned on my heels and began briskly walking back in the direction I’d come from.

“I do hope Mazenda won’t be too upset,” I called over my shoulder. “Have fun explaining the situation to her when you see her.”

“W-wait!” The man abruptly ran after me; I found the sudden desperation in his voice pretty funny. “If you’re on the level, then we’d better let you through or she’s gonna kill us!” The other men voiced their firm agreement.

“But if it turns out you’re bluffin’, then look out.”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “So why don’t you just go ask Mazenda herself?”

“Er… uh…” he stuttered. I sighed impatiently.

This is really getting tiresome.

“All right, all right,” I interjected. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll go as far as Mane and lodge at an inn. When you report to Mazenda, tell her that Melty’s waiting for her at the inn.” The masked men again had a quick discussion among themselves.

“Hey!” the first man suddenly yelled. “I thought you said your name was Lily!”

Dammit, Lina, it would help if you could get your fake names straight!

“I was lying to you, of course.” My insides shook with I ear, but I somehow managed to sound calm. “I was just testing to see how perceptive you were.”

“Is that right?” the first man guffawed, pleased with himself.

That’s why I like third-rate villains—so gullible.

“Miss,” another asked, “why don’t we escort you as far as Mane?”

I waved off that suggestion just as lightly. “If you do that much for a common traveler, it’ll only look suspicious. You might be better guards if you stopped making stupid suggestions.” With that, I began traipsing away. And in a very convincing girlish fashion, I might add.

“Don’t forget to give Mazenda my message, boys,” I twittered back at them, waving goodbye.

Oh, Lina, how can you be so smart?

* * *

The rest of the journey was uneventful, so I put my original plan into action as soon as I reached the village. There was no sign of Gourry or Xelloss there. I had hoped, at least, that I might meet up with Xelloss, but it was clear from the fact that my magic powers were still sealed that he was busy with his own mission. That also meant that Mazenda was still alive. I hoped, at least, that she hadn’t killed Xelloss and left me completely screwed.

On the one hand, I was glad I’d managed to get into Mane—enemy territory, practically. But now that I was there, what was I supposed to do? I had no leads, no resources, and no effective way to attack my enemies.

I’m not one to sit around and sulk, though, or give up and rot away in my room. I’m Lina Inverse, woman of action, sorceress extraordinaire, and I never accept defeat!

So, off I went.

“My brothers!” Krotz boomed, his voice resounding in the darkness.

You guessed it. I’d snuck back into the cult’s meeting place, the ruins of the coliseum hidden away in the mountains near Mane.

It had been five days since I’d arrived in Mane, and every one of those five nights I’d ventured up to the coliseum in the hopes of catching another of the cult’s secret meetings. So far, I’d had no luck, but on the fifth night, it was showtime again. My method of sneaking in was the same: I hid on the coliseum’s uppermost tier, where I had the least chance of being seen. Getting up there wasn’t a problem, since I could at least handle a levitation spell with a little help from the talismans’ amplification powers.

My objective this time wasn’t to crash the meeting but to see if I could catch wind of where the group’s headquarters were. Sneaking in by myself with my powers compromised was a risky stunt, but it was either that or twiddling my thumbs hack at my lodgings while I waited for Gourry or Xelloss to show up. Like I said, that’s just not my style.

As I peered over the ledge, I noticed that the guy addressing the congregation wasn’t Balgumon. This guy was much younger, with a head of dark hair and a slender face. If I didn’t hate his guts by default, I might’ve even thought of him as handsome. Even from way above, where I crouched, I noticed a glint in his eyes and a charisma in his voice and style; in short, he was everything that pipsqueak Balgumon wasn’t.

The speaker wore a flowing black robe that flapped around him as he exhorted the crowds and gestured passionately with his hands. Then, during a pause in his speech, he lowered his arms and let them rest at this sides.

“Be pleased,” he boomed. “That which we desire is now within our grasp!”

With that, a huge roar of delight reverberated throughout the congregation. It practically made the stars shudder.

“Yes,” he continued, “true power, true terror is finally within my grasp! Now the fools who worship the gods shall know their heresy, for we have the power!”

Once more, the coliseum shook, this time even more thunderously with the cheers and applause of the adoring crowd. They were obviously mesmerized by every word this guy—who could only be Krotz—uttered.

“First,” Krotz said, “Saillune!”

I found my interest immediately piqued by the mention of Saillune.

Hasn’t that city been through enough already?

“They have the audacity to call their city the Holy Capital, a city of White Magic that worships Ceiphied!” Krotz sneered bombastically. “By destroying it first, the entire world shall know our might!”

My eyes went wide.

Wait a minute! Destroy it?!

The guy either suffered from a screwed-up sense of humor or was even loonier than I thought.

Now, I get that exaggeration is an essential part of any organization s rhetoric, especially one as foul and twisted as the Cult of Shabranigdu. But you’d expect even the most zealous of leaders to backtrack a little after making a whopper of a claim like that. Something like, “Heh heh, I was just kidding. We can’t actually do that.”

Suddenly, a sickening realization dawned on me.

They could do it. Destroy Saillune, using the manuscript. Still, even if they did have that kind of power, it was hard for me to believe that anybody would actually use it. That is, until I remembered that the guy making the claims was a megalomaniacal cult leader who suddenly had more power than pretty much anyone and consistently showed signs of being really, really insane.

All of a sudden, things aren’t looking too good for the world. “Several days ago,” Krotz went on, changing the topic, “a band of outlaws disrupted our assembly here.” An angry murmur rippled through the crowd, but Krotz quickly quieted them with a gesture. “You need not be concerned!” he assured them. “One of them has been captured by our comrade Bishop Balgumon, and the other two shall soon fall into our hands.”

I breathed a small sigh of relief after hearing that; it meant that Gourry hadn’t been captured yet and was most likely still alive.

That was all the important stuff covered at the meeting. The rest was just Krotz yammering on and on about justice, the nature of evil, and the true nature of mankind, blah, blah, blah.

After he finally finished his pep talk/sermon/warmongering diatribe, the assembled cult members chanted a spell in unison, appealing to Ruby Eye for his “glorious” grace. And on that cheery note, the meeting concluded.

Krotz and his entourage made their exit from the coliseum, each torch on their route flickering out as they left. The congre­gation also made to leave, but less impressively: they thronged the exits, talked among themselves, and waited to be let through.

It’s now or never.

Using Levitation under the cover of darkness, I descended to the floor of the coliseum and joined the crowd of cult members. I was in disguise, of course—I’d changed into men’s clothing and put on a mask like the ones the cult members wore. I couldn’t disguise my voice, but as far as appearance was concerned I could easily pass for some kid brought along by his bad role-model father. Sometimes, I had to admit, being short and not having the most ample breasts in the world did have its advantages.

Given a choice, though, I’d definitely take the extra height and curves, and give up being able to pass for a prepubescent boy.

In any case, there I was, a part of the stream of cult followers slowly filing out the exit. My objective was to get a lead on Krotz, because if anyone was heading for the cult’s super-secret headquarters, it was him.

Unfortunately, I was completely unarmed. A sword would’ve drawn too much attention, so I’d left mine back in Mane Village with the rest of my belongings. The talismans, though, I couldn’t do without. I’d hidden them under my disguise: large bracelets concealed the amulets on my wrists and a scarf tied around my throat hid the talisman-bearing necklace. The belt-buckle talisman I wore under my clothes. Okay, so maybe the bracelets and scarf were a little odd considering I was supposed to be a man, but it was the best I could come up with under the circumstances.

It helped that the cult’s security was amazingly crappy. Not only was it way too easy to spy on their entire secret meeting, but going unnoticed while standing right in a crowd of them turned out to be even easier. For a moment I thought I might actually find their headquarters without a hitch.

Yeah, that was a nice thought. As usual, it didn’t last.

What I hadn’t counted on was the fact that the cult was actually hyper-organized in a way I hadn’t guessed. As I got closer to the exit, I noticed that instead of leaving randomly (like you’d expect from a group of this size), the cult members seemed to have very specific routes planned, along very specific paths, and none of them moved alone. Worst of all were the men in red mantles and masks up ahead, paying close attention and making sure that everybody was where they were supposed to be. Far from having lax security, I realized now that it didn’t matter to them who spied on their meeting, because they were sure to catch the spy on the way out.

There’s no turning back now. Think, Lina!

For the time being, I followed along with the general group as it made its way out of the meeting hall. A large number of the believers took up torches and began heading back toward the village, so I hid among them and hoped I’d get overlooked. The moment it seemed no one was watching, I dove out of the line, hid myself in the underbrush, and waited for the group to pass.

So far, so good.

By the time I’d picked my way back to the coliseum, the last stragglers from the meeting were gone. I hid in the brush for a while, occasionally checking for any signs of movement or activity.

Then, I lucked out. I heard movement not far from where

I hid.

Several silhouettes appeared at a small opening not far from the exit the congregation had used. There were about ten guys, some holding staves with lighting spells illuminating the tips. One of the staff-bearers, his face glowing faintly in the light, was Krotz. The group took a path that led them away from the village and deeper into the mountains.

Now we’re getting somewhere!

I began to follow the trail of lights. The path was rocky and uneven, and I couldn’t use any light of my own and still remain undetected. I somehow managed to trail them without falling or tripping or otherwise making loud noises that would give me away. If I had been caught, even in my mask and disguise, I would’ve had a hard time explaining just what the hell I was doing following their secret procession to their secret temple.

As I snuck along, I suddenly got the freaky sensation that I was being followed. Was there someone on the path behind me? Swallowing my panic, I tried to weigh my options.

Options? What options?

Turning around to face whoever it was would be tantamount to saying, “Hi, I’m your enemy!” I had no choice but to pretend not to notice.

All I could hope was for my disguise to stave off suspicion. But if it did come to a confrontation, how could I fight whoever was tailing me without sounding the alarm?

“Hey!” a firm voice called to me. “You there!”

My heart froze. The sound came not far from my right.

Time for Wimpy Kid Act Number Two.

“Y-yes?” I said, turning in the direction of the voice.

A masked figure dressed in red stood there—a muscular figure with an imposing, manly voice. Hell, saying he was muscular was an understatement. Whoever the guy was, he was built like a mountain and stood a head taller than Gourry. His voice didn’t sound familiar.

“What are you doing in a place like this?” he asked.

“I-I got split off from Daddy,” I whimpered. “I saw the lights up ahead and followed.”

The man shook his head. “Mmmm,” he sighed. “A lost kid.” Phew, I think he bought it.

“You’re going the wrong way,” he said. “The village is that way.” He clicked his tongue impatiently. “Still, I can’t send a kid back alone. It’s dangerous out here at night.”

I was about to protest with a feeble whine when he stepped toward me. “Say,” he inquired gruffly, “whose boy are you?”

“Eh?” I yelped, not expecting to be interrogated at that time of night and in the middle of nowhere.

“Don’t squeal like a little girl—be a man. I’m just asking you where you live and who your daddy is. I’ll walk you there.”

Now he wants to know who’s my daddy?

It was not the time for an evil cult follower to get all parental on me! Nothing good was going to come of this, I could feel it.

I sighed moodily. “That’s okay,” I said, “just gimme a torch or something, and I’ll get back by myself. I’m not a little kid, y’know.”

“Now, hold on,” the man said. “Don’t give me that I’m not a little kid’ rubbish. From the looks of it, that’s all you are. And your voice hasn’t even dropped yet.” The man rocked on his heels and grunted. “As you heard at today’s meeting, there’s been a suspicious bunch hanging around here lately. I’m not about to let you go wandering in the dark by yourself with those hoodlums around.”

So, a member of an insane death cult is calling me a suspicious hoodlum. What’s wrong with this picture?

He’d been interrogating me for so long that I’d lost sight of Krotz and his entourage. Their lighted staffs had disappeared around a bend somewhere farther up the path.

If I didn’t wriggle myself out of this one fast, I had no hope of catching up with them. For a second I considered just beating the guy up, leaving him a bloody heap in the forest, and going along my merry way—but without my powers, and not knowing how good the guy was in a fight, the plan was too risky. I had to keep playing along.

“Gotcha, pops,” I chirped. “You can walk me to the village entrance. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than gab with a little girl, er, boy like me, right?”

“Ha!” the man erupted. “You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you?” With that, the man chanted a small spell under his breath. A moment later, a small magic light sprung to life on the tip of his staff and spread a faint, flickering glow over the mountain trail.

“Hunh,” I remarked. “You can use magic?”

“A bit.” The man sniffed and thrust his chest out like he was the toughest guy on the block. “Now, let’s be off.”

He stopped and spun around to face me. “Oh,” he added.

“And you’d better take off that mask.”

I’d better what?

“Eh?” I squeaked, my throat contracting with sudden panic.

“Take off the mask,” he repeated. “This light may be enough to see by, but just barely. I’d rather not have you break your neck from tripping over some stray root or rock.”

“W-well,” I stuttered frantically, “why don’t you, uh, take yours off first?” That might hold him for a couple seconds.

The man groaned impatiently. “Because,” he muttered. “I have a somewhat frightening face.”

Well, you can’t say he wasn’t honest.

I gathered he was another beast-man. Now that he mentioned it, I did catch a hint of a strangely shaped face protruding from under his mask.

“Now,” he insisted. “Take your mask off or we won’t go another step.”

When I still hesitated, he grumbled and sent one of his massive hands toward me.

BOOOOOM!

Something in the distance had exploded. The night air trembled and we both gasped, whipping around to the source of the noise.

“What the hell?!” the man cried.

Up ahead in the direction that Krotz had gone, a bright flame flashed for an instant. After a moment, a thin plume of smoke rose from where the flash had been.

Somebody’s firing off magic spells in the middle of nowhere. What do you want to bet that’s the enemy stronghold

I was glad to see that all my sneaking around was finally paying off.

“Sorry, kid—I won’t be able to take you after all.” The beast-man pressed his lighted staff into my hands and pointed to the bottom of the slope. “The village is straight down that path.” Then he stabbed a finger at the smoke rising above the trees and added, “But don’t go that way! Got it?!”

I’m supposed to be young, not brain dead.

“Pops!” I called to him as he bolted away.

The man kept running, but craned his head back. “What?”

“Er… what’s your name?”

“Duclis!” he shouted. “We’ll meet again!” Even as he spoke, his form vanished into the darkness.

For an enemy, Duclis seemed like an okay guy. I was glad I hadn’t picked a fight with him, and not just because he probably would’ve wiped the floor with me.

It was time to get moving. I stowed Duclis’ staff in the nearby brush and ran up the path as fast as I could.

* * *

After an awkward scramble in the darkness, I finally found what I was looking for: just above me on the hilltop stood an ancient, decrepit building. Like the old coliseum, its walls were crumbling, and sections of it had actually collapsed and left heaps of broken masonry on the hillside. The building had probably been abandoned by its original owners before Krotz and his cult had claimed it.

I’m pretty sure the land I stood on was once part of the Letidius Kingdom, which was wiped out five hundred years ago, but remnants of its civilization still dot the landscape in the form of crumbling ruins.

After scoping out all sides of the building, I discovered only one entrance. Luckily, it wasn’t guarded. Magic lighting filtered dimly out of a gaping hole on one side of the building, which was most likely the place where all the commotion had come from. I figured it was best to stay away from that side.

The people occupying the building, I gathered, were probably all from the cult’s upper echelon. Judging from the scant signs of activity, there weren’t nearly enough of them for a building that huge.

Getting in didn’t seem like it would pose a problem, but considering that my recent track record with risk assessment had been pretty lousy, I decided to play it safe. All I knew was that there was someone in that building capable of setting off an explosion—and a damn loud one at that. There was always the chance that it wasn’t an enemy, that Xelloss was the one exploding the crap out of that place. Maybe he’d managed to pursue Mazenda all the way here and was duking it out with her? It was an encouraging thought—not likely, but encouraging.

Or maybe, I thought, Gourry got discovered sneaking in, and now mages with explosions are trying to kill him. That was a much less encouraging thought.

I knocked my palm against my head. I didn’t have time to get carried away with what-ifs! If an enemy attacking either Xelloss or Gourry had caused that explosion, I wasn’t about to just sit back and watch.

I leapt out of the thicket I’d been hiding in and sprinted toward the building’s entrance. I quieted my footsteps as I closed in on the large, square hole that served as an open doorway. I didn’t sense anyone in the immediate vicinity, which was a good sign.

The building’s facade was lined with white pyroxene pillars, all of which were cracked and half covered by dirt and sand. I passed through the doorless opening and into a large rounded hall. Light filtered in from somewhere on the right. Guessing that was the place to head, I took a step forward.

KA-BOOM!

There are a lot of those today.

The explosion had gone off somewhere within the building— there was a battle in progress, no doubt about it. I braced myself and dashed toward the light. I quickly discovered that that section of the main hall split off into two passages: one corridor went straight for a bit and then turned, the other led to a stairway The strange light filtered out from both passages.

“Crap!” I griped. All I had right then was intuition, and one false move could ruin everything. After an exasperating couple of seconds, I picked the winding corridor.

Peering around its bend, I saw that the passageway had doors lining each wall and went on for a ways before taking a sharp right. In spite of its age, the interiors of the building seemed really strong and preserved; the place had probably been a holiday party mansion of sorts for lesser nobility back in the day.

Before venturing farther down the corridor, I checked to see if I could sense anyone behind the doors. No one was there so I took the right and found yet another corridor lined with still more doors. Great, I thought sarcastically, then took off down the passage, running.

Luckily, that corridor ended far more promisingly—with a smoking chamber, its door blown apart by some sort of explosion spell. I smiled triumphantly as I carefully stepped over steaming hunks of door.

The room was empty. One of the chamber’s walls, I noticed, had been spectacularly destroyed, and revealed the nighttime mountain scenery outside.

It was definitely the work of magic. In fact, it had probably been the wall blowing up during my run-in with Duclis—it explained the bleeding light I’d seen from outside the building.

I spun around and charged back down the corridor. I wanted to check out the rooms that I rushed past, but something drove me on, an immediate sense of urgency that I couldn’t shake. All I knew was that I had to retrace my steps and find my way into the main hall again.

Unfortunately, I ran into someone at the bend in the corridor.

“Hey,” snarled a familiar voice. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I looked up into a memorably hideous face: Vedur. The great sword he held low in his right hand glistened.

Damn! my brain screamed.

Luckily, I still had my mask on, so Vedur didn’t know who he was looking at. Realizing he could very well recognize my voice, I quickly reverted to my kiddie whine.

“A-after the meeting ended,” I sniveled, “I got split off from Daddy.” I fiddled with my thumbs and shuffled my feet. “I-I was wandering around when something went boom. I just came to find out what it was.” I whimpered a little and rubbed my nose on my sleeve. I was beginning to think my act was working and that I’d be out of that jam soon enough when—

“Take your mask off,” Vedur barked.

Again with the mask! If the cult hates the things so damn much, you’d think they’d take them off the dress code.

There were no reasonable options left. The time for drastic measures had arrived.

I quickly strategized. The corridor we stood in was fairly wide, but it wasn’t wide enough for Vedur to take a good swing at me with that sword of his. I figured that if I could blind Vedur for a few seconds, that might give me the time I needed to slip past him and run for my life. If anyone else was in the building and heard the commotion, I had to hope I could scatter them while escaping.

“My mask?” I twittered, trying to stall the inevitable. “Oh, you mean this mask?”

I pressed my wrists together at my chest and began mumbling a spell under my breath. In case you’re still wondering, it was Amplification.

“I said, take it off,” Vedur growled as he took a menacing step closer. I pulled back and completed chanting the Amplification spell. I started to chant a fireball, but it needed just a few more—

“Take it off or I cut you up!” Vedur snapped as his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. He was about to make a move when another familiar asshole interrupted him.

“Careful, Vedur!” came Gilfa’s voice out of the darkness, seemingly from out of nowhere. “He’s—”

Thanks to Gilfa unintentionally throwing Vedur off for a half second, I managed to finish my spell just as Vedur took the hint.

Too late, beast-man!

“Fireball!”

As a rule of thumb, don’t use a fireball indoors—not if you value your furniture, anyway. But with my magic strength downgraded for the time being, I figured the spell would be effective enough without causing massive damage.

As the spell’s power gathered, though, a strange sensation radiated from between my joined palms. My eyes widened. Something very destructive was about to happen, and I didn’t have much time to react.

Uh oh.

“Vedur!” Gilfa’s voice roared. “Pull back!”

As he spoke, a fiery ball of light formed between my hands. I flung it at Vedur with everything I had.

BOOOOOM!

The explosion knocked me backward and slammed my butt against the floor. The roar shuddered through the entire corridor. When I tentatively opened my eyes and looked up, I saw no sign of Vedur. He was either very dead or very lucky.

The floor and walls were scorched and cracked, and the corridor had collapsed and become completely impassable. The biggest question of the moment was: who or what had caused that explosion? Me? That didn’t seem likely for a sealed sorceress.

Time for a test.

Hastily, I chanted another spell.

“Lighting!”

As I released the spell, a brightly shining globe glowed directly above my head. The lighting spell looked like it was functioning at full power, but I hadn’t activated the amplification spell. That could only mean…!

“Hell, yeah!” I cried as I jumped to my feet and whipped off my mask. One way or another, Xelloss had come through for me.

Maybe it had been a bit rash of me to amplify the fireball’s power before checking to see if my powers had come back. But let me say that amplification is the way to go if you want to wreak some serious havoc. I gazed at the smoking and destroyed corridor and, I have to admit, got incredibly stoked.

Bring it on!

Still, I was lucky that the spell’s barrier had apparently gotten stronger as well. Without that, I would’ve been reduced to a heap of ash and teeth.

With the passageway plugged up, I figured the best way back into the main hall was to go through the blown wall in the innermost chamber and loop around outside. Of course, with my magic power restored and my talismans working nicely, I naturally wanted to try them both together again. I figured an amplified version of Dam Brass could smash a shortcut hole through the nearest wall and let me gauge how much more powerful the amplification made the spell. Like killing two birds with one stone! And to those of you who think I was just tripping on my new powers, the Dam Brass plan was in the interest of science.

I went into one of the rooms off the corridor and positioned myself facing the main hall. I chanted the amplification spell followed by Dam Brass.

BOOM!

With just a single shot, I blasted apart a hole in the wall large enough for an adult to walk through. The power in my fingertips was absolutely dizzying.

“Well, then,” I chuckled to myself. “I’d best be outta here.”

I approached the hole I’d just made, but then halted as I sensed something. I picked up a piece of rubble lying on the floor and casually tossed it outside. I’m grateful that what happened next happened to the rubble and not to me; out of a corner in the opening, just out of my sight, a silver light flashed. It sent the two halves of the now-bisected bit of rubble rolling across the floor.

“I guess you figured we’d be waiting for you, eh?” cackled Gilfa’s disembodied voice. It came from the other side of the wall.

“Guess you two are sneakier than I thought,” I drawled.

Vedur’s head appeared in the hole. But, as usual, there was no sign of Gilfa; I guessed he was in the shadows again, so to speak.

“Where do we fight?” Vedur asked matter-of-factly, like he was asking where the bathroom was.

“Mmm.” I considered for a moment. “Somewhere where I get a lot of breathing room so I don’t have to smell you as much. Let’s try the main hall.”

The beast-man growled at my reply. Apparently he didn’t like opponents with sass. He slid away quietly, and I jumped out through the hole in the wall and carefully followed.

That’s right, I thought as I bore my gaze into his back. No funny business, snake.

I had to stay on my toes; powers restored or not, there were two jerks to deal with, and quite possibly a bunch more waiting elsewhere in the building. I knew I could blow Vedur and his shadowy friend to smithereens with my new amplification spell, but that would require a hell of a lot of chanting—more chanting than I could probably pull off in a tight battle. To top it all off, I still didn’t have a handle on the severity of the amplified spells. If I used my powers haphazardly, I could bring the whole building down on my head.

I wanted plenty of room and sturdy walls that wouldn’t collapse if I tried something big. The main hall fit both those require­ments, a fact I confirmed once I stepped into it again with Vedur.

“Lighting!”

The shout came from Gilfa. Instantly, the spell created a light that hovered near the ceiling.

Vedur, not two dozen paces in, whipped around to me and assumed a fighter’s crouch. “Let’s go,” he snarled, and before I could respond, he sprinted across the hall.

I took a surprised step back. Easy! I thought quickly. Aren’t we supposed to shake hands or something first?

Rather than swinging his great sword, he rushed with its point forward and aimed for my chest. Dodging right or left would get me nailed with a slash for sure. I leapt backward while chanting a spell; at the same time, I heard Gilfa chanting something of his own.

“Elmekia Lance!” I shouted.

It was a great strategy on my part—the Elmekia Lance directly targets an opponent’s mind, so Vedur’s lesser-demon- level magic resistance wasn’t going to help him. Unfortunately, none of that mattered, since he slid off to the side and evaded the damn thing.

At least his dodge veered him a bit off course and slowed him down momentarily. I took that blink-of-an-eye opportunity to pull farther back and begin chanting my next spell. Gilfa still finished first.

“Shadow Web!”

Vedur’s shadow distorted and released spear-like tentacles straight for me. I leapt even farther back; the shadow spears shot across the room and stuck fast to the floor, dangerously close to my feet.

Vedur had, by then, recovered his balance, and he charged at me again with his sword. I prepared to dodge him, but then suddenly realized something very disheartening.

I couldn’t move.

My eyes flew to my feet. The shadow spears had done their work: Gilfa’s lances had plunged into my shadow on the

Hour, effectively pinning me to the spot where I stood. He’d done a Shadow Snap with the shadows under his control.

Bad! Very bad!

But I caught onto Gilfa’s game too late; Vedur was already raising his great sword over his head. I crouched and threw my arms over my face, pathetically hoping that would do something as he brought his sword down.

SHINK!

A silver flash glinted through the air and deflected Vedur’s blade. With a hard metallic sound, an unexpected sword clanged to the floor between the beast-man and me.

Someone had launched a sword at Vedur, repelling his blade within a hair’s breadth of… well, my hair. I only knew one person with sword aim like that, and only one who would stupidly risk— and ultimately save—my life with such an insane move.

“Gourry!” I cried.

A familiar voice rang out from somewhere behind me, but it wasn’t Gourry’s.

“Your guess is a little off,” my savior said coolly. “Try again.”

I spun around with my eyes wide. “Zelgadiss?!”