xOxOxO
Zelgadis shut the door of the meat locker behind him with a slam one standard deviation louder than necessary.
"What happened to you?" Franz asked. "You dropped your satchel off here and went running like some kind of maniac, and a few hours later you look like…" He made a gesture of general unpleasantness. Hans suggested an improbable and anatomically challenging circumstance involving lemon slices.
"I'm here now, aren't I?" he said, doing nothing to sound any less bitter than he looked.
"Yeah, well, we could have used your help a while ago. Now let's poison some more rats."
As they got to work Zelgadis learned a little more about the incident at parliament from Hans, who had been in attendance. The king of Calliope stood up in some kind of signal, someone had detonated the ceiling, and no fewer than three men in official robes cast Freeze Arrow on an unwitting Amelia. They'd been fast, but Seyruun's guards had been faster, and Amelia was saved with no problem (Zelgadis barely suppressed a snarl). This led to a dispute between Franz, who thought blowing up one's own parliament without any casualties was the sign of a diabolical engineering genius; and Hans, who thought putting a giant X on the carpet was a persuasive argument to the contrary.
They continued to argue as they force-fed forty-six unknown powders and teas to their poor captives and sat to wait. There were many shortcomings to this method, compounded by the larger problem that they were just winging it in the first place, but it was more or less how Phil would have gone about it, which was good enough for his spies. Of the samples, at least seven were an observably awful experience for the test subjects, four of which had received teas. So the first order of business was disrupting the flow of toxic tea. Eogre, a constant presence in the kitchen, could manage that. Now it was just a matter of ensuring that none of the suspect substances had made their way into Amelia's room, accidentally or otherwise. This task fell to the only one of them whose presence there never attracted much attention in the first place.
"You could just ask her," Franz said.
Zelgadis disagreed. "The last thing she needs right now is to worry that she's being poisoned." Besides, he had a perfect opportunity while she was being the star of that stupid party-farce from the same people who'd tried to attack her just hours before.
Sure, why not? Why should she worry about another kidnapping or assassination attempt? All those soldiers were there to protect me, she'd said. And she'd had the nerve to act surprised when he hit back. She had to know it was below the belt because right afterwards she'd offered up that thing about seeing fireworks. It wasn't a serious invitation, he was sure of that much. It was an apology disguised as a superficially nice gesture, and his response had been an equally disguised acceptance of that apology. It wasn't like she actually wanted to sit around with him in a garden and...and keep sitting? Definitely not anything like what Lina had suggested.
Leave it to Lina to remind him what evenings like those could be for normal humans-humans who didn't have repulsive faces, craggy stones instead of stubble, and hair that could be used as a weapon-then declare herself above it all anyway. Lina was walking, talking salt in a wound without even trying, and God help you when she was.
He stewed all the way into the evening, a full hour after sunset, as he went to investigate her suite. It wasn't something he wanted to do. He had no fear of being caught, as Amelia trusted him with her life, even if she did have all those soldiers there to protect her (stop that). Zelgadis just disliked the idea of his knowing things that she hadn't wanted him to know. The thought of her doing it to him was unbearable. Hopefully in a guest room there would be a lot fewer personal effects.
Sure enough, her room was mostly empty, as she'd been too busy with work to bother with much else. The desk was covered in speech after speech and stacks of notes complete with exclamation points and determined-looking smiley faces in the margins. Her luxurious bath had more of what he was looking for, with a plethora of lotions and potions required for the routine of a princess in the relentlessly critical public eye. There was a bit of industrial-strength hair cream that she faithfully applied every day in the hopes that it might tame the lock of hair that stuck up at the top of her head like a quetzal tail. It never worked, but that didn't seem to discourage her one bit.
Zelgadis took samples of everything he could find, from the sparkling bath salts in a generous glass jar to the powders he recognized as generic pain relievers from apothecaries. Does she just have these on hand? Is she taking them now? Is she sick? Why didn't she say anything? He was no longer concerned with her privacy. Yes, she'd been looking exhausted and wasn't sleeping well, but he'd chalked that up to her characteristically stubborn refusal to recognize her own limits. He of all people would know.
Or maybe I don't.
There was no way to entertain that thought without going down a road he refused to consider, so he had no choice but to succumb to a sourness that could pickle potatoes. By the time he'd finished tagging and taking samples, Zelgadis was practically itching to pick up his sword. He all but flung the little bottles at Hans, Franz, and Eogre on his way out of the estate. "Bring some rats with you when you come back!" Eogre yelled.
He had no problem finding his friends in the network of secret tunnels connected to Calliope's sewer system, thanks to Sylphiel's bloodcurdling screams in response to the rats, cockroaches, and leeches there to keep them company. As best as Zelgadis could tell, their search hadn't taken them very far, likely because Lina was too grumpy to read the map properly.
"There you are," Lina said, as if she was entitled to his presence. "I was beginning to think you were...tap dancing to oboe mazurkas, or whatever it is they do at fancy princess parties. Having your servants bob for golden apples? You'd know better than us plebes, Sir Greywords."
"I'm here to fight," Zelgadis replied, in a tone that cautioned them he wasn't feeling picky about who or what. "Let's go."
The four of them stalked along in their own varying degrees of discomfort and angst. It was quiet in the tunnels, with only the sounds of their footsteps and the occasional loud burst of fireworks from above while they picked human waste out from under their fingernails.
None of them were in any position to acknowledge aloud that they would all have been better off had they just gone to the party and had some fun. Young people who have defeated multiple Dark Lords and looked into the face of chaos are still young people. But gaining the power to defeat Dark Lords comes at the expense of having other priceless things such as "the ability to handle ordinary problems" or "a modicum of emotional maturity". They kept walking, equal parts on edge, dissatisfied, and every kind of lost. The tunnels spiraled in every direction without any clear continuity, changing from damp rock to brick to rock again, up stairs and across small waterways like a labyrinth built across time and space.
At last they reached a sturdy bolted door with a square padlock for the slide keys. "All right!" Lina cried. "Let's hope there's treasure on the other side!"
But there was no treasure, only a couple of exhausted, scruffy-bearded sorcerers on a smoke break. "H-hey!" one said, angrily stuffing his pipe into the pocket of his long purple robes. "How the hell did you get here?! Stay back!"
Zelgadis and Lina took the unaware men down with a round of simultaneous Flare Arrows, lighting up the whole tunnel with golden flames. The noise brought more sorcerers running, each of whom burned or froze or crunched to their sudden doom before they could lift their arms to chant.
"Dig Volt!"
"Fireball!"
"Bam Rod!"
"Guys, that's probably unnecessary," Gourry said, from a safe distance where he and Sylphiel were sharing a pack of speculaas cookies.
The guys in question ignored him and corpses and capes continued to pile high in the musty tunnels. When the air grew thick with hazy gray clouds and the fumes from burnt velour, Zelgadis Bomb Di Wind-ed the smoke and debris away so they could proceed.
Ahead of them the tunnel took an abrupt drop downwards and narrowed to a cramped, claustrophobic path that forced them to crawl single-file on their hands and knees. They shuffled along until the path dropped out altogether and they tumbled down into a vast, dark chamber full of murky water.
"Lighting!" Lina and Zelgadis commanded in unison. It didn't help much. Beyond the water the room was completely empty and the tall stone walls were barren. In each corner of the ceilings far above was an opening, including the one from which they had fallen. The water shone green with algae and rose just high enough to cushion the blow of a steep fall.
"Where...is this?" Sylphiel asked, standing.
"Nowhere we want to stick around." Lina Levitated to the ceiling and was peering around potential exits when the whole room started quaking. She caught herself right as a scaly, winged beast burst through one of the holes. Its serpentine body spanned the full length of the wall, supported by four clawed feet on short hindlimbs. Everything about it conveyed tension and rage.
"Basilisk!" Lina shouted. "Eyes down!"
"But don't catch its reflection, either!" Zelgadis added.
This was too much for an already exasperated Gourry. He swung his sword in frustration. "I've had it up to here with enemies I can't look at!"
xOxOxO
Amelia was being yelled at again, but this time it was no unpleasant side effect of consciousness: it was peacock mating season in Calliope. The trees around her window must have been unusually romantic, because no sooner had she closed her eyes when every peacock on the estate gathered there to engage in the sensual and the sublime. It sounded like a sack of bagpipes falling down the stairs.
The night was still young when she decided sleep was a lost cause and went to take a late-night bath. Maybe if she was feeling well enough afterwards she could go looking for the others and show them she was good for more than princess duty. I hope they don't think I'm going soft.
She still practiced as often as she could, sometimes even training in disguise with the mages in the elite sorcerer corps or her heroes in the 35th Acrobatic Company. Amelia and her father practiced martial arts together, refining their specialty techniques and developing new ones (Curbstomp of Tranquility was just about ready for action). When Zelgadis was around, she trained with him too, in their own unconventional way. The notoriously patient and accommodating people of Seyruun were no longer alarmed to see a sword-wielding chimera chasing their princess from rooftop to rooftop. But training, even the most intensive training, wasn't the same as real fighting. It had been so embarrassing to tell them she'd walked into a trap and couldn't protect herself. What if Lina and the others thought she wasn't strong enough, that she really was just a helpless princess? Was she...becoming one?
Of course I'm not! she told herself. I'm just as tough as they are and I can prove it any day of the week!
The suite featured an elevated marble bath beneath a framed mosaic of white roses and grapes. Two corinthian columns framed either side of the bath, as though the bather was meant to be the center of attention. There was a small window on the far side of the room obscured with only a gauzy curtain. The island breeze carried the harmonies of erotic honking.
Amelia sat on the ledge with both legs in the marble tub as she drew the water. She opened the jar of bath salts and for a split second she thought she caught a whiff of something like musk and petrichor, a smell so distinctive she jolted upright. Was she finally asleep and dreaming? She'd had this dream before, but there was supposed to be champagne...and a ruffled nightgown draped over a chair, and-
... I'm losing my mind. She shook her head vigorously, which only made her dizzy. Amelia heaped more bath salts into the water. Even she had to admit that multimodal hallucinations were a bad sign. The others would just have to save this day without her. Amelia reminded herself there would be other days, and she had to save the day in her own way, too. Does Lina-san know how to write a perfect aide-mémoire? I bet she doesn't! she thought and sank down into the tub.
xOxOxO
The basilisk was shockingly fast and angry. It paced in rapid figure eights around the walls and spat volleys of sizzling acid at the reeking intruders, who were on an uncertain defensive. The four of them waded awkwardly through the waist-height water and tried not to look anywhere near their target. As a combat strategy it was, in the words of a famous military historian, "not very effective." Lina attempted a Bomb Sprid, which the basilisk easily avoided; Zelgadis cast Ly Briem, only to discover the creature's acid saliva was hot enough to melt the ice; and Sylphiel's puny Dimilar Wind just ended up getting water in everybody's eyes.
"Take a…" Lina slammed one hand into the wall. "...Van Rail!"
Icy strings extended from her fingertips in overlapping radial patterns, forming an enchanted glimmering web that stretched all the way up the wall. The basilisk, sensing danger, suddenly leapt down with a loud splash. It gave a territorial howl, loud enough for Lina and Zelgadis to toss Fireballs vaguely in its direction, but the basilisk had already skittered back up to the ceiling like a centipede. The sorcerers only succeeded in roasting each other's clothes.
"You owe me new shoulderpads!"
"Do you really want to start this right now?"
"Hey," Gourry said, tapping at something with his foot. "I think there's something down here. Feels like a panel? Maybe a door?"
"Why would a door be underwater?"
"How would I know?"
Either the basilisk sensed an opportunity or it was just tired of being assaulted at range, because it began a series of pouncing attacks in an attempt to tackle its squabbling prey. Maddeningly, at the first sign of resistance it jumped or slithered away again. It moved faster than they could chant, target, or swing, jumping onto their heads and jumping off just as quickly. After several minutes of this Zelgadis was ready to downgrade the encounter from "dangerous" to "obnoxious" but for the scalding saliva and chance for lethal eye contact. The worst part was when it leaped down, knocking them flat into the water. Could chimeras contract diphtheria? He didn't want to find out.
Zelgadis was about to be on the receiving end of another dive bombing, close enough that he could smell the basilisk's rotten egg breath, when he remembered the charming pawn shop near the port at Bagrudan. It was the best sort of shop, where you were just as likely to find a cool vintage pocketknife as an ancient tome about mysterious cures. He'd gone in to look for unique magical artifacts but his attention was taken by an acoustic guitar on a high shelf. Although it was dusty with neglect and its strings were worn, the guitar itself was in excellent condition.
He'd thought about buying it. He very nearly had. Every so often Zelgadis would find a guitar lying around, whether at an inn or an abandoned shrine or a ghost ship, and every time he took a few furtive strums he felt a new amazement at how much he enjoyed it. But was he the kind of guy who owned a guitar and actually played the guitar, not just let it gather more dust somewhere? I really should have bought it, Zelgadis thought.
All veterans have experienced this phenomenon: the totally irrelevant thoughts that arise when you can least afford it. Gourry dubbed them "battle gnats", and it was a very apt term. The thoughts were small, stupid, and irksome, the polar opposite of the life-altering revelations that sometimes struck under the same circumstances. Or was that just him? If the others saw their life's meaning in a new light at the brink of death, they weren't talking about it. Talking about the gnats was much easier. Lina freely admitted her first Ragna Blade was almost disrupted by a hankering for mustard.
"Hey, Zel!" Gourry called. "You okay?"
"Sorry, just battle gnats," Zelgadis said, then stopped short as the realization hit him. "That's it! Dust Chip!" He hurled the spell up in the air, followed by another and another. At least one struck the target because the basilisk howled in pain. Lina caught on quickly.
"Scatter Bleed!"
The hits themselves were negligible but sharp and persistent enough to keep the basilisk screeching. As it cried out, Lina and Zelgadis took turns casting spells to upset it and using its sounds to indirectly aim more magic in its direction. Gourry struck over his shoulder, hard enough to remove one of its tiny legs. From there it was only a matter of Flare Lances and a couple hits with an Astral Vine-d sword to finish it off.
The basilisk stopped moving, and Sylphiel peeked out between her fingers to look. "Um, I guess it's over, then."
Lina pumped her fist triumphantly. "Of course! We only needed it to keep making noise so we could locate it. All we had to do was annoy it to death." She paused and frowned, dissatisfied at having teed up so many great jokes without the appropriate audience to appreciate them.
"That was more work than I'd like," Zelgadis grumbled.
"Guess you'd better practice more, then. Gourry, you said there was a door down here?"
There was indeed a hatch near the center of the room. Of course the proper thing to do would have been to blow the water aside with a wind spell and hold it back, but it was late and no one was in the mood. One Dam Brass later, the hatch was open and the filthy water began emptying down a long stairwell. It lasted long enough for everyone to have a couple of post-action cookies. Something about it felt less satisfying than normal.
They proceeded down the stairs to a dark, dank dungeon. Every cell they passed was empty, but there were shining shackles, thumbscrews, and maces aplenty that implied much more recent inhabitants. Based on how the water sank to the depth of a mere puddle, Zelgadis guessed the dungeon was far larger than it appeared.
"Over there!" Gourry said, pointing towards a chamber where oddly shaped figures cast strange and unsettling silhouettes in the edges of Lighting spells. "Is that...a brass demon?"
It was a brass demon, or what was left of one, its arms and legs clamped by rusted manacles attached to an altar. Each of its wings was pierced by two great poles protruding from the wall. Someone or something had thrust an iridescent white gemstone into its chest, where it glowed with a sickly yellow light. Under its body were vast heaps of crude gold pieces. In the corner was a pile of desiccated human corpses, still clothed and sparkling with amulets.
The demon showed no signs that it recognized anything around it. It retched several times, making such guttural, uncomfortably moist noises that even Lina of the infamously iron stomach went slightly green. It finally spat up what looked to be several hefty lumps of golden pellets coated in thick monster saliva. Sylphiel gasped.
"This is…" Zelgadis trailed off, grasping for an equivalent term to 'inhumane' for things that, despite not being human, nonetheless didn't deserve to be tortured. He hadn't known he could have sympathy for literal demons. This was entirely too many emotions for one day.
"Wrong," Gourry provided, and sheathed his sword. It was a wrenching scene, but not a dangerous one.
"It's being used as a tool to create gold," Lina said, somewhere between a question and an assertion. "And it looks like they're using other sorcerers to keep the magic going. But there's something else making that gold with the brass demon's body. That stone, maybe."
Everyone stared at the grotesque sight for a little while longer, revolted and saddened, until the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps from the stairs. A blond young man in the guild's purple robes approached them. He looked at them with abject terror and trembled.
"P-please don't kill me," he began, a line that people really should use more often when addressing a slayer of Dark Lords. "I-I'm in the capital chapter of Calliope's Casting and Conjuring Circles. My name is Chadwick Corsair."
"Of course it is," Zelgadis said dully.
"Hey, listen, kid," Lina said, "this is disgusting and outrageous! And for the low, low price of one million gold pieces, I'm willing to walk away and pretend I didn't see it."
"Lina!" Gourry cut in, appalled.
"What, am I underselling myself?" She watched the agonized creature burp up another fist-sized hunk of gold, and Zelgadis could practically see her moving beads on an abacus. "You're right. You're all bazillionaires and it's worth way more to you to keep this going. Five million and I'll take payment in bars."
"You could also just take it hostage until you get whatever it produces and whatever the king of Calliope decides it's worth," Zelgadis suggested. "That's probably more than five million."
Lina's eyes widened with delight. "Zel! Why aren't you and I in business together, huh?!"
"Lina."
Gourry no longer sounded angry, just firm. His expression had none of its usual patience or friendly calm. It would have been nothing of note on anyone else, but on Gourry it was downright unnerving, even wrong. If someone had said it was a mazoku attempting a Gourry shape Zelgadis would have believed it. Meanwhile, Lina stopped short like a golem that had lost its summoner, eyes blank and face red.
The petrified young man launched into weepy rambling, unaware that he was one of the precious few humans alive to witness the defanging of the Dra-mata. "No, I-I'm glad for what you did. I'm glad you stopped the guild! Kidnapping and killing those sorcerers-they told us they were criminals-but it's wrong! I didn't mean to, I joined the guild to help people! I never wanted to be a part of this!"
Lina sighed. When she spoke again she sounded tired but generally placid, like she'd been shaken from a long nap. "Okay, Chadward. Now what?"
"Please…c-can't you just end this now? For good?"
"Yeah, fine." After a brief chant she chucked a Fehlzareid over her shoulder without looking backwards. A bright ray of light expanded and illuminated the whole chamber in a single bright lightning flash, then disappeared. The brass demon disappeared entirely, freed from its earthly torments, leaving nothing behind but a faint smell of beef jerky. The stone that had been forced into its chest dropped to the ground and rolled forward, where it came to an auspicious stop at Lina's feet. She put it in her pocket and glanced discreetly back at the heaps of gold. Chastened or not, she had zero hesitation about stealing from the dead. Or the undead, or the demonic, as the case may be.
"So, that's that, then," Zelgadis said, eager to physically and metaphorically wash his hands of this whole night as soon as possible. "Let's go."
Chadwick nodded and led them up and away through the maze of tunnels. The improbably deep tunnel system came courtesy of Calliope's long and unfortunate history, he explained, which involved centuries of natural disasters. No matter how many volcanoes and earthquakes occurred, the people kept rebuilding, oftentimes directly atop the ashes of the previous generation.
"Maybe that's a sign to give up and go somewhere else," Zelgadis muttered. For this he got a hard yank on his ear from Gourry, who glared, and Zelgadis remembered Sylphiel was with them. She didn't seem to have any reaction but he felt guilty all the same. Way too many emotions.
Back above ground, they exited the tunnels into the Calliope Office of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs. Lina sealed them off with a tremendous Vigarthagaia that collapsed the building into rubble. The destruction passed with minimal notices. Even on the night of a celebration, there weren't many people wandering around administrative buildings, and moreover, nobody regardless of life experience or political affiliation was about to shed tears over the permitting process.
"All's well that ends well, right?" said Lina triumphantly, patting the sacks of gold tied to her cape.
Zelgadis stared at the wreckage, an unsupervised demolition that surely violated all applicable environmental and noise standards. Things like this were a lot easier to bear if you didn't contemplate the outcome. "I think we just set off an economic depression that's bound to ruin the lives of everyone on this island and lead to mass unrest, potentially a coup. There's definitely going to be a war."
"Orrrr this was just another one of those funny side stories with no consequences whatsoever that everybody forgets about. Who's to say, really?"
"You did kill a whole bunch of sorcerers who were maybe important politicians," Gourry reminded her. "We should probably leave soon."
"Tomorrow, tomorrow! Let's get some sleep first."
Together the four of them set off towards the center of town. With the heat of battle and the events of a very long and uncommonly stressful day behind him, Zelgadis had a newly unpleasant thought. He hastened his pace and caught up alongside Sylphiel, who had a faraway, wistful look. "Sylphiel, can I ask a favor? It's..." He paused, wondering if he should have apologized first. Probably. Too late now. "...important."
She turned to him with a bright smile. "Of course, Zelgadis-san!"
"Come with me."
"What…" She looked around, perhaps in search of a clock, but the countless stars twinkling in the night sky were sufficient proof that it was well past any respectable hour, even for people who weren't as necessarily modest as shrine maidens. "Wh-what? Now?"
"I'll explain later."
Ahead of them, Lina and Gourry spoke so softly that no other human could have heard, but their conversation was perfectly audible to a pair of superhuman ears. Zelgadis raised his hood and hung back slightly, trying not to hear. It didn't work. He lifted his cowl, too, because he sensed he was blushing.
"Gourry…" Lina was contrite, sincerely contrite. It was bizarre to hear. "You know."
"I do." For his part Gourry sounded stern, a bit reproachful, but not unkind. Gourry would have made a great teacher if he could have held more than two things in his head at any given time.
"Sorry, anyway."
"Good," and just like that his serious tone was gone. "Say, that pub by the harbor does scotch eggs for breakfast. Do scotch eggs have scotch in them?"
"What?! How would that even work?"
"Why else would you call it a scotch egg, then?"
Lina let out a groan that could be heard by anyone. Zelgadis felt privileged to have heard that ephemeral moment of grace between two of the people he knew best. It had somehow ratcheted down his own unfathomable feelings of surliness and resentment, feelings he hadn't even realized he had until that instant.
You know - I do. He could guess at what it meant, but only they could be sure. How something like that could exist for two people who spent so much of their relationship chokeholding each other for chicken wings was beyond him. Like the nature of black holes or the beginning of time: some of the universe's mysteries can only be admired, never understood.
Zelgadis looked up at the stars, where the inky night sky showed no sign of the horror they'd witnessed that night or the suffering yet to come for the merrymaking people of Calliope. They still had a few hours before dawn, a few more hours to drink and eat and dance before their world came crashing down, a few more hours before a whole nation awoke to the end of their happiness and security. There's still time.
And he was probably going to spend those last few peaceful hours in a meat locker.
xOxOxO