I don't own Slayers

=Chapter I=

The thief was running out of money at a fast pace. She reached into her pockets and pulled out lint…her only currency. "Damn it," she said to herself. "All this wouldn't be happening if my partner would just show up!"

She had been staying in Seiroon or Seyroon or whatever crap city it said on the "Hi! Welcome to" sign she had passed by three months ago.

He was late as usual…'he probably saw something shiny,' she thought to herself.

Gourry Gabriev. He was a wonderful swordsman and handsome guy. Granted, his mind was usually on something else when a person was talking to him, but he was nice. Most of the time, he acted like her brother/guardian. She hated how sometimes he would belittle her just like an older brother would do to a younger sister because it reminded her of her own family. She shook her head as her thoughts started heading down that road. She wasn't about to remember the past. Not now.

The red head tapped her foot impatiently against the cold hard floor. Something has to be wrong. Gourry would never not show up to an arranged meeting. He'd be late for a day, two days, a week, but never a month. He's more considerate.*

But that wasn't her problem right now. If she wanted to wait any longer, she had to find more currency…and soon.*

So, currently, she sat at the back of a tavern, staring at all the food passing by her, while she listened carefully for some information on something worth her time.

As luck would have it, two men came in and sat down in the table next to her. One was a man with shoulder length purple hair. He wore a loose white shirt, brown boots, and dark leggings. He also carried a long staff with him. The other man was too hard to describe because his face and head was covered by a cloth and a hood. He wore a dark tunic, cape and breeches. However plain his clothes looked, she still noticed the sword hanging from one of his two belts. It was expensive…at least three thousand gold coins in the black market.*

The purple haired man called over a waitress and ordered something fruity. The other man declined.

"Hey, did you hear about those men who wanted to buy the Pendant of Desire from the Hope Shrine?"* The waitress asked.

The two men shook there heads and glanced at her in astonishment. "Why would someone want to do that?" the purple haired man asked.

The waitress shrugged. "I don't know. However, they seemed to want it badly. They offered the women there five thousand gold coins without batting an eyelash."

The thief's ears twitched. 'Five thousand?!'

So her plan was set. First, she'd steal the damn pendant. Then, she'd sell it to those men, and finally, she would get something to eat.

Her abdomen rumbled in agreement. The young girl patted her poor stomach. 'You've suffered a lot haven't you?'

Her belly gurgled in reply.

'Don't worry. I'll make up for it…'

She was so engrossed with images of food, that she didn't notice the purple haired man stand up and whisper, "Nice acting, Martina" to the blushing waitress.

===

Reconnaissance missions were a pain. Granted, she had only been in the shrine for less than an hour, looking at the doors and finding where the pendant stood, but still…it seemed way too long.

She was now free for the night and had decided to take a stroll--something to clear her mind and forget about her complaining tummy--when she saw one of the men (the one with the mask) from the tavern. He appeared to be staring into a window.

Curious, the thief drew closer to the masked man. He seemed to freeze just as she stood behind him.

"Young girls shouldn't be out by themselves," he remarked having seen her reflection in the shop window.

She frowned. She had forgotten about her reflection. "I'm not that young," she replied in a cool voice. She observed the stranger beneath her lashes. Something was odd about him; she just couldn't figure it out.

He turned, suddenly, and she was met with his icy cold glare. "Could've fooled me." She realized then, that she liked his voice. It was unusual, something she hadn't heard before.

"Appearances can be deceiving."

He froze at that statement and the thief wondered if she had said something wrong. She shrugged it off and tried a simple grin.

She didn't know it then, but the man had smirked at that statement. "I'm surprised," he said slowly.

"At what?" she prompted. She was curious…her sister had called that a bad thing, but she didn't know why. Curiosity was fun.

The man looked up at the sky and sighed. "That you haven't stolen anything from me yet. That was the reason you were coming up to me, wasn't it?"

She was taken aback. Never before had she been accused of being a thief without having stolen something. "What makes you think that I'm a thief?" she asked incredulously. She remembered not to let her guard down. Everything the man did could be an act. She put on a "lost girl" expression by letting a few tears gloss over her eyes.

He chuckled at her statement and met her eyes once again. Suddenly, she shivered. His eyes…they were so familiar…as if she'd seen them somewhere before. "It's written in your soul," he murmured.

She didn't follow him as he left her standing in front of the shop. Glancing inside the window, she noticed a small gem, about the size of a charm. It was a plain, blood red jewel surrounded by a silver circle. For some reason, that looked familiar as well.

She felt a name on her lips. Something that she didn't even realize she had said until the wind carried it into the night sky, and to her ears. "Zel…" she murmured.

=End Chapter=

* Concept gotten from a fantasy novel called The Thief's Gamble by Juliet E. McKenna