Chapter Six
In a change from the past several days, it was Lina who dragged Zelgadis behind her on the way back. He was still angry. The single thing he most wanted at that moment was Rezo messily dead at his feet. It was a rather detached sort of anger though, like floating over the crater of an active volcano. He supposed it was due to the utter hopelessness of the situation that he felt so calm. He'd seen it. Rezo had blocked a Dragon Slave. He couldn't win against that kind of power.
A sharp tug on his ear alerted him to the fact that they had arrived at Lina's apartment and that Lina had grabbed hold of the aforementioned ear plus a handful of hair and was shaking him and yelling something. No, on second thought, she wasn't really yelling. More like hissing really, really loudly. She looked absolutely furious. Great. She might just do the job for Rezo.
"You. Sit your ass down in that chair, Greywords. You don't get up until I say so. You have a lot of explaining to do. Blowing up public property is ok. Trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone is ok. Blowing up the competition for the Stone is also ok. That's what you're paying me for. But nobody, nobody, should be able to shield a Dragon Slave that casually unless they're using Cepheid's own power to do it. And even then, it shouldn't just be absorbed like that. What the hell is going on here?"
"I don't know," came the faint, tired reply. The anger was losing its edge, cooling into a dull gray haze that clouded his mind and suffocated his thoughts. He'd known this kind of good fortune couldn't last. Murphy's Law had a special place in its heart for Zelgadis. Looked like things were getting back to their normal, dismal state.
Lina glared at him. Zelgadis didn't look so good. Good. The bastard deserved it. The reasons for his being so deserving of it were still a little nebulous, but that was ok too.
"What the hell do you mean, 'you don't know?'"
"'I don't know' means I don't know."
"And how'd you know Rezo was the competition? What's with you and him? What's the deal you 'backed out of,' and what's this vengeance crap he mentioned? Did you just drag me in as extra firepower in some kind of bizarre family feud, or is there something else going on here?"
Zelgadis started a little.
"How did you know we were related?" He hoped it hadn't been any similarities in demeanor between himself and the old bastard.
"You look alike. Now talk."
Great. Just great. Well, he was already screwed anyway. He might as well tell her. After all, when it came right down to it, he supposed he'd rather have Rezo kill him for his attempt at the Philosopher's Stone than be ignominiously blasted to Kingdom Come for holding out on Lina.
"The deal was that I'd find things for him and he'd make me stronger."
"What kind of things? And why'd you back out?"
"Anything that might help cure his blindness. Most of it wasn't for sale, so he needed someone with my skills to help him out. As for why I backed out, it turned out that his idea of making me stronger was making me a chimera."
"Oh."
There really wasn't much she could say to that.
"So why dump the job of actually fighting Rezo on me? I'd think you'd prefer to do it yourself."
"He included the golem element to prevent my turning on him. If I don't get too close, I can prevent him from controlling me directly, but I can't cast anything at him."
"What happens if you try?"
"Whatever I tried to cast rebounds on me."
When Zelgadis didn't want to answer a question, he tended to just dodge it or ignore it, rather than lie outright, so in all probability every word of this was completely true. The situation still sucked, but…
"All right. I'll accept that. Is there anything else you've neglected to tell me that I need to know?"
Zelgadis shook his head mutely. There was, in fact, plenty that he had neglected to tell her, but none of it that he judged she needed to know. Lina, watching him, concluded that this was in fact the case, but didn't press him. She could see why he wouldn't want to talk about it. With a sigh, she stood up and headed for the back of the apartment.
"Try and get some sleep, Zel. You look like crap."
Zelgadis stared numbly up at the ceiling for another half hour, thinking absolutely nothing at all, before rolling onto his side and taking Lina's advice. It was still early, but he hadn't gotten much sleep last night.
Besides, what else could he do?
His sleep was fathomless and inky, no dreams breaking its dark peace.
The next day's dawn was of that luminous gray color that heralds the arrival of a summer day of cutting heat, one of those where the air shines like mother-of-pearl and sound withers and dries to a grainy husk and is carried away on the thermals so that conversation seems to fall from the sky.
The heat woke Lina at a much earlier hour than she would have preferred. She felt smothered and sticky, and toss and turn as she might, sleep kept its distance, though lethargy remained a close companion. She finally gave up the fight and stumbled over to the window, managing to avoid knocking her shin on the ever-treacherous nightstand on the way. She stared blearily out at the empty streets, wondering what time it was.
Her conversation (well, to be entirely fair, interrogation might be a more appropriate term) with Zelgadis floated languidly into her mental arena. In this limpid sleep-hazed state, she could not help but consider the ramifications of his predicament. Against her sounder instincts, she was beginning to like Zel. Sure, he might come off as a cold, sullen bastard at first, but she could sympathize with the thoroughly exasperated pessimism with which he faced the world and she liked his stubbornness when it came to getting what he wanted despite his obvious conviction that everything and everybody was against him. It depressed her to think about the lousy deal he'd gotten on life.
She padded out of the room and down the hallway to poke her head around the doorframe. He was lying on her couch, looking just as tired asleep as he had awake. Lina sighed and returned to her room to go back to looking out the window.
What the hell. If they won against Rezo, he could have the Philosopher's Stone.
After all, he wanted it far more than she did. And he'd probably be willing to pay a lot for it.
When Lina next woke up, it was to the groggy awareness that she had fallen asleep at the window and that there was a crick in her neck and her knees hurt from the kneeling position she had adopted. As often happens when one returns to sleep after a brief forced absence, she felt much more tired than she had on her previous awakening. Her brain felt soggy and her fingers thick. Gauging the angle of the sunlight that pierced the room and the good-natured commotion of the street below, she guessed several hours had passed since her early vigil. With a strangled groan, she crawled off to try and wake up. Finally, feeling only marginally more aware, she ventured into the main part of the apartment.
The first thing that struck her was that Zelgadis was awake and he was smiling. Lina blinked, stared, and immediately revised her opinion. Smiling was far too benign a word for it. Zelgadis was smirking. If he had been a cat, Lina would have immediately started scouting the room for dead rodents. In fact, she wasn't sure she shouldn't be looking for bodies of one sort or another anyway.
"I," he announced, "am going to die."
Zelgadis had uttered a sentence with cheerful aplomb. And he was also going to die. The best Lina's brain could do with that information first thing in the morning was:
"Huh?"
"The day after tomorrow, Rezo is going to kill me," he explained patiently. "You don't have to come along if you don't want to, but I'll have to modify your cloak a bit. My crossbow won't fit. I'm already paying you plenty, so you really…."
"Your crossbow?"
Lina hurriedly came around to where she could see him better. Zelgadis was seated cross-legged in the middle of her living room, a veritable sea of weapons neatly arrayed around him. Present were the aforementioned crossbow (a small one-handed, cranked model), a couple of flintlocks, a brace of darts, and a multitude of throwing knives of all sizes and descriptions.
"Yes. My crossbow."
Lina gaped and sputtered. Then it clicked and she began to chuckle. Pretty soon she was laughing out loud while Zelgadis looked on grinning. Of course. He couldn't cast spells at Rezo and close range combat was out of the question. Projectile weapons were the only way to go.
"Zel?"
"Mm?"
"This is the most bizarre, twisted display of optimism I've ever seen."
"Thanks."
If he was going to be optimistic, it might as well be bizarre and twisted.
"No problem. And of course I'll come with you. You'll need someone to trade spells with him while you put a bolt in his back."
"Thank you."
"Nah. I'm happy to. I want to know how that bastard blocked a Dragon Slave."
The bloodthirsty grin melted from Zelgadis' face.
"I want to know too."
"Did you figure anything out?"
"I'm not sure. A high-level Mazoku might be able to absorb a Dragon Slave like that."
It was theoretically possible. Black magic drew directly on some of the most powerful of the Mazoku hierarchy to provide the volatile energy needed for its spells. The Dragon Slave spell drew on the biggest, baddest Mazoku there was: Shabranigdo, defeated eons ago and broken and sealed away, but still potent and malevolent.
"But Rezo isn't a Mazoku. Hell, his specialty is White. He can't be."
"Maybe he's getting help from one. I can't think of any other way to have a shield eat a Dragon Slave."
"Have to be a really powerful Mazoku."
Zelgadis shrugged.
"Ah, well. Burn that bridge when we get to it, I guess. Coffee?"
"Please. And if you have some oil and a rag…?" he said, glancing sidelong at his armory.
"I'll see what I can do."
The manic grin made its way back and Zelgadis returned to inspecting his arsenal.
A little while later, Lina sipped her coffee and watched Zelgadis lovingly tend to his knives. Being an enthusiastic devotee of mass chaos and destruction, Lina was quite impressed and just a little bit jealous. Still…there was something rather odd going on here. She looked at Zelgadis, presently engrossed in restoring some invisible shine to a viper-thin stiletto, then at the smorgasbord of weapons, then back again. Repeat.
"Zel? You normally carry all that on you?"
"Yes."
Lina again eyeballed the armory, then looked back at Zelgadis just to make sure. Sensible, minimal clothes: shirt, pants and boots.
"Where?"
Zelgadis waved the knife he was holding.
"This one, left forearm sheath, spring-loaded because right-hand draw can be too slow when you need it, that one right forearm sheath, also spring-loaded, those over there are boot knives, that one…"
"Never mind. I don't want to know. How the hell do you sit down without impaling yourself?"
Zelgadis smirked and cracked his knuckles together. They clacked.
"Oh."
Actually, he kept most of his weaponry in his pocket dimension, but people tended to find him much more awe-inspiring when under the impression that he was armed to the teeth at all times, and Zelgadis was certainly not above exploiting this effect.
"That's…" Lina wavered between "very impressive" and "going overboard" and finally settled on "…remarkably paranoid of you."
"I'm not dead yet."
Lina rolled her eyes.
Around Zelgadis, time could be measured in cups of coffee. It was exactly three cups later that he finished polishing, sharpening, loading, and balancing his weapons. Lina's cloak lay over to the side, recovering from the minor surgery required to comfortably hold his crossbow, and Zelgadis himself sat on the couch, smiling smugly into his fourth cup of coffee.
Lina, still amused at his obvious satisfaction in being the most secretly deadly man in the city, decided that now would be a good time to inquire as to just how he intended to die.
"So how do you want to do this? Do we just go in there and start blasting, or is there something more to it?"
"I thought it might be prudent to see what can be done to persuade whoever's actually making the Stone that siding with us allows for a higher chance of survival on his part. If nothing else, we can find out when precisely the Stone will be done and make Rezo come to us."
"An ambush, huh? Sounds good to me. Let's go."
Within an hour they stood in front of the warehouse where they had encountered Rezo. At this range, the unfinished Philosopher's Stone vibrated loudly through the Astral, deep and clear, like the sound one would perceive if one could somehow hide oneself inside the low bell of a carillon as it was being rung. Beautiful as it was, it put them at something of a disadvantage. Neither could sense far enough through its thick power to discern whether or not there was anyone inside. They were going to have to go in blind.
The door was locked, unsurprisingly. In short order, Zelgadis had picked the lock and cautiously edged it open. They walked in, the echoes of their footsteps making Zelgadis wince. If there should be anyone here, they would have plenty of warning that there were intruders present. He fervently hoped that the warehouse was provided with only one exit. Zelgadis remained where he was to guard the entrance against escape, and Lina swept the whole warehouse, looking for their target. At last she came back, looking both relieved and triumphant.
"No one's here, Zel, but there's a huge pile of alchemical equipment sitting in the back."
"Good. He'll have to come back here to finish the spells. An easy stake-out."
And they settled down behind a cluster of crates to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Lina shifted nervously and yawned, pulling a face when Zelgadis shot her a glare for her noise. She really detested waiting. Zelgadis, on the other hand, was apparently cut out for just this sort of thing. He was just sitting there, had been just sitting there, eyes never leaving the open aisle and ears straining for any sound for the past two hours.
"Don't you get bored?"
"Hsst! Be quiet!"
"No, really. Aren't you sick of just sitting there? Don't your ears get tired? Doesn't your back hurt?"
"I am, in fact, bored to tears, my ears are about to fall off, and I think my spine has sustained permanent damage. Thank you so much for calling it to my attention."
"I'm bored too. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. Really, really, really bored. Bored out of my skull, bored out of my mind, bored like I've never been bored before, bored into next year, like you, bored to tears, bored out of heaven, bored into hell, bored halfway insane, I'll drive you crazy as well…"
Zelgadis frantically fished in his pocket and came up with a somewhat moth-eaten deck of cards.
"Here. Play solitaire or something. Just don't talk to me. And no more doggerel."
Lina brightened.
"All right! Come on, Zel, don't be so dour! We can play poker to while away the hours!"
"What did I say about doggerel and talking to me?"
"Come on…it echoes in here. Surely your ever-so-superior senses will catch someone coming in the second the door opens."
Zelgadis glared. They would, but he'd survived this long in spite of luck, not because of it.
"One-hundred bottles of ale on the wall, one-hundred bottles of aaaaale…"
"Fine."
Two hours later, Zelgadis smirked as he laid down his hand and raked in his winnings (some lint and buttons they'd collected from the insides of their pockets, having nothing else to use for markers – well, in point of fact, Zelgadis did have some money, but felt entirely justified in not playing poker with Lina for real currency). Lina pouted.
"No fair! These cards are magicked!"
"No they're not. I just cheat much better than you do."
This was not true in the slightest. In fact, Lina was a bit better at cheating than he was. But Zelgadis had an axe to grind. He resented being pulled away from his post and had not appreciated the doggerel at all. And Lina's threatened rendition of "One-Hundred Bottles of Ale" simply did not bear thinking about. Winning at poker made him feel much better.
His ears twitched at the faint stirring of greased hinges, and he waved a hand in front of Lina's face and motioned her to silence. They cautiously crept to the crate's outward edge to spy out the intruder's progress.
The slow-paced tapping of boots engaged in a steady walk made the faint rasping sound of their breaths seem overly loud and continued for an eternity. Finally, just when it seemed that the newcomer had been caught in a Zeno's Paradox preventing him from ever arriving at his destination, the alchemist hove into view.
There was no mistaking him for anything other than a practitioner of that obscure branch of magic. The man's hair hung in dandelion-yellow wisps around his collar, and his oddly bright eyes, darting like the silvery flashing of a school of herring making a sudden turn, were shielded behind several layers of lenses. His hands were stained with tan and purple blotches, the legacy of decades of close work with exotic chemical compounds. Once he had bobbled his way into the haphazard mountain of beakers and burners and vials and tomes, and had begun to potter, Zelgadis and Lina stepped out from hiding.
They had argued at length over how exactly to do this while playing poker, mostly at Zelgadis' insistence, because Zelgadis believed the best way to navigate the road to success was to meticulously plan a route that circumvented the obstacles. Lina believed that one should blow up the obstacles and worry about incidental damage to the road later. Zelgadis, needless to say, was quite firm in his insistence once Lina made her own views clear. Finally, when he had successfully argued the point that a plan was, in fact, quite necessary, Lina had put forth her plan for the confrontation, which essentially consisted of a rather unsubtle variety of blackmail. Zelgadis, however, favored bribery, a method that, as he pointed out, would allow them to get on the alchemist's good side. Lina had reluctantly seen the wisdom of this approach, and so it was Zelgadis' plan they used now, though Lina had been promised a chance to threaten, should the alchemist prove unreasonably intractable.
At the sound of footsteps, the alchemist whirled around in a clatter and stammered out a deferential greeting.
"Ah, g-good morning. Can I help you with something?"
Lina grumpily reflected that Zelgadis could be threatening just by looming in a cloak with a deep hood and that she was getting the short end of the stick here.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I think we could use your help. We'd heard that, with Midsummer Eve coming up in a couple of days, a certain item was being manufactured. Are we talking to the right person?"
The alchemist's nose twitched, rabbit-like, and his hand reached for something out of view. Lina nudged Zelgadis, who threw a glance and small nod her way in acknowledgment before shifting minutely to put a knife within easier reach.
"Maybe. Who are you and what do you want to talk about?"
"We'd like to offer a price for the item. My name is Zelgadis Greywords."
"I'm Lina Inverse."
The man squinted.
"You're Lina Inverse? Really? You sure don't look like much…"
"I suggest you not antagonize her," whispered Zelgadis conspiratorially. "She's already blown up a city park and a restaurant this week."
"…but then again, appearances can be deceiving, can't they?"
"So now that we've introduced ourselves, perhaps you could do the same and tell us whether we've been wasting our time?"
The alchemist's hand finally moved reluctantly away from whatever it had been hovering over and all three relaxed a little.
"Name's Rathpole. You're wasting your time. I'm not interested in money, and even if I was, I wouldn't sell the Stone to Lina Inverse."
"HEY! Just what do you mean by that?"
Rathpole paled dramatically and flapped his hands in frantic apology, as Lina's smoldering eyes and bright hair suddenly called to mind just a little too vividly the still-smoking remains of the park.
"Nothing! Nothing at all! The Stone is simply not for sale, not even to the illustrious Lina Inverse herself! A thousand apologies!"
Zelgadis hastily interjected before things could get out of hand.
"Maybe we can still work something out. The Stone's for me, not her, and I wasn't planning on making a monetary offer."
"What kind of offer?"
"I can get you a supply of Phoenix Tears."
Rathpole's watery eyes got a little bit wider. The stakes were higher than he had realized. Phoenix Tears, so called for their color of melted amber and their unpredictable volatility, were essential to many of the more complex and esoteric alchemical formulae. Despite their name, they were not truly organic in nature, but were rather something like a liquid mineral. They were imported secretly in small quantities and at great cost from a land somewhere to the east of Lapland, where it was rumored that kings and queens bathed in the stuff to imbue their skin with a golden, godly radiance. It was also borderline illegal. The restrictions and requirements that needed to be met in order to obtain a small quantity were, to say the least, highly prohibitive. And for good reason. The slightest drop of moisture added to a vial of Phoenix Tears moved the formerly inert liquid to sudden, ferocious wakefulness, making it a shipment of the most dangerous sort. Possession without authorization was punishable by a heavy fine and several months in prison.
Rathpole licked his lips.
"Legally?"
"Legally, no. Untraceably, yes."
"Good enough. Get me one standard size flask by this time the day after tomorrow and the Stone is yours, and good riddance. I'm sick of moving my equipment every few weeks. You mages are a real nosy…."
Zelgadis cleared his throat.
"Yes, about that…you'll probably get an offer for the Stone from the Red Priest. Don't accept it." Zelgadis paused meditatively, and then added: "Lina, you're free to threaten him now." After all, a little extra encouragement never hurt anyone.
"If you would like to observe a Dragon Slave first-hand, all you need to do is accept it!" Lina smiled contentedly at the thought of a Dragon Slave.
"As I was saying, don't accept it. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes," squeaked Rathpole.
"Good. Assume yourself to be under intense surveillance for the next couple of days. If you have dealings with Rezo, I'll know it."
This was not in the least true, but Zelgadis was a fervent believer in "every little bit helps" and "prevention is the best cure."
And with that, the two walked out of the warehouse. Rathpole wiped the sweat off his forehead. Damn punk kids. What had he ever done to deserve a visitation from Lina Inverse?
"Ha, ha! That was more fun than I expected! I thought you were going to be all boring and gentlemanly about it, but I guess I underestimated you."
As Lina had expected, Zelgadis just threw her a noncommittal grunt, but the evil smirk (apparently copyrighted; Lina had never seen a smirk quite like it.) was back in full force.
"What was that you were telling me about not solving your problems with violence?"
"Special circumstances."
"Suuure. So how are you going to get your untraceable Phoenix Tears? Steal 'em, right? Can I come?"
A rather frightening smile wound its way across Zelgadis' face, quickly erased before Lina could take note of it.
"All right. You can be lookout."
Lina shivered and stomped to keep herself warm. It might be summer, but night so near the river was still far, far too cold for her tastes. She had been standing in front of this warehouse for nearly an hour, senses tense and stretched to their limit, watching for anything, anything at all, that might compromise Zel.
She was really, really bored. And now there was no Zel to annoy to pass the time.
In fact, she was beginning to suspect Zel had set her up here in a covert act of vengeance. That acquiescence of his had been just a little too easy….
So now she was freezing her butt off out here while Zelgadis burgled yet another warehouse (this one a good distance from Rathpole's). The first thing they had done was go off to the docks to check the shipping postings. After buying a broadsheet, he had poured over it for perhaps fifteen minutes before pointing out the following notice:
Schooner Dragonfly out of Venice, arrived 6:24 on the eve of the eighteenth. Captain: Mark Jones. Mate: Esteban Garcia. Cargo: Asst. Furs, Cedar wood, Asst. dried fruits of exotic origin, salted jerky, northern honey, iron ore. Warehouse 48. Departure on the morning tide of the twenty-fourth.
Northern honey was the usual slang for a smuggled Phoenix Tears import.
Their theft would be rendered untraceable by the simple fact that no smuggler worth his hide would be willing to report a theft. If the cargo didn't officially exist, it couldn't officially go missing.
So now Lina dying of boredom out in the freezing cold, unable to do anything interesting, because that might possibly attract attention, and Zelgadis, who hated attention with a passion under normal circumstances, loathed and reviled it while trying to do a job. Admittedly, Lina could see his point there. Attention would not be a good thing at this juncture. But still! This was taking far too long, and, truth to tell, she was starting to get a little bit worried.
Zel?
Lina tapped into the Astral and began a tentative search for him. They had agreed that he would remain connected to the Astral for the duration of the job so that Lina could contact him as quickly as possible if need be. After all, what good was a lookout if she couldn't alert you to danger?
Lina? What's wrong?
Rezo had done a good job keeping the Mazoku out of Zelgadis' physical appearance, but it would be impossible to mistake its presence in the Astral plane. Zelgadis still felt like Zelgadis, weary pessimism and all, but his personality had acquired a flickering edge of glittering cold, vicious and bright-bladed. Talking to him here felt like wading into an iced-over lake.
Nothing's wrong out here. You're taking a long time. Is everything all right in there?
Yes. I just have to find the right crate.
Lina recalled the number of crates to be found in your typical warehouse and gave a mental groan. Suddenly the distinctive hollow tap of footsteps sounded and Lina gave up her grumbling in favor of trying to determine its source. Where was it coming from? It was hard to tell in here; the flat bulk of the warehouse walls tended to bounce sound. She slowly turned in a full circle, trying to determine its origin. There. Was that corner becoming lighter? Yes!
In a moment, the yellow glow of a lantern rounded the corner, swinging in perfect metronome to the steps of its carrier. Behind its blunt radiance, she could make out the uniform of the guard.
Zel! Cops!
How many?
Two.
Then it's probably just a routine patrol. Can they see you?
No.
Lina crouched in the shadow of the barrels by the warehouse's entrance, holding her breath as she waited for the patrol to pass by. Finally silence once again fell over the scene and Lina crept out again.
They're gone.
Good. If they stick to a regular schedule we'll probably only have to worry about three more before this is done.
Three more?!
This is a big warehouse, Lina.
Groan.
Zelgadis managed to somehow convey a shrug through the Astral plane.
You wanted to come.
Sadist.
Fortunately for Lina, during the next hour, Zelgadis struck it lucky and found the correct crate. Nonetheless, she was very, very relieved when Zelgadis finally stepped out of the door. It was cold out there. Not to mention boring. If she ever became a professional, she was going to stay as far away from burglary as possible. Oh no. She wouldn't touch a breaking and entering job ever again. No, if Lina was going to be a thief, she was going to be a mugger.
"You got it, right? Right?"
Zelgadis nodded.
"Great! Let's get out of here. I'm cold! Come on, hurry!"
Back in the blessed warmth and relative safety of Lina's apartment, they stared at the flask Zelgadis had extracted from his cloak (Lina had given up. It was carrying his crossbow, his darts, and probably some of his knives. Besides, he used it more than she ever had. It was now officially his cloak.).
The flask itself was perhaps only four inches long, but the power of the liquid inside it made it seem bigger. Anyone with any mage sense at all could tell that the Phoenix Tears were highly magical. Hell, even a person with no mage sense whatsoever would have no trouble keeping their distance. The fluid exuded brassy golden radiance of a headache-inducing vibrancy and churned inside its glass prison with almost sentient frustration, forcing itself against the inside walls in seething miniature tsunamis.
Lina was very impressed.
"And you're really going to give this stuff to Rat-face? You sure that's wise? He didn't seem to be the most steady of persons."
Zelgadis shrugged.
"It's one more obstacle in Rezo's way. As long as I get the Stone, I couldn't care less what he wants to do with this stuff."
Lina rolled her eyes and reflected that she might have found an equal in Zelgadis when it came to disregard for public safety.
…Though, given the path recent events seemed inclined to take, that might turn out to be a very good thing indeed.
AN: Finally back. Those of you who are reading this, thanks for sticking around. See? Told you I wouldn't crap out on you. The person you should actually thank for my not leaving you in limbo any longer is PKNight, who did us all one hell of a favor by biting the bullet and volunteering to beta-read this sucker.
The good news is that you shouldn't have to wait too long for the next chapter – because deleria was almost right – chapter seven is close to completion.
So many thanks to PKNight, and many thanks to you guys. You have no idea how thrilled I am that people are reading this thing. (And apparently enjoying themselves, no less!) You rock.