Rin was jolted back into consciousness as the Bentley screeched to a halt in the circular driveway of the mansion. It was more the terror and trauma of Assassin's attack that had weakened her to the point of fainting than the pain from the wound, although that stabbed cruelly as Shane lifted her out of the car. He rushed her up the entryway stairs and into the kitchen where he set her gingerly on the kitchen table, sweeping the settings and flatware there onto the floor with a massive crash to make room. Melva and Estavio, summoned by the clatter, stood in wide eyed shock as they entered. Shane took charge of the situation.
"Let me see. Let me see. It's okay, let me see." He said, gently pulling Rin's blood soaked fingers away from the wound. She winced and he inspected it briefly before covering it up with a clean dish towel. He placed her hands over it, then beckoned Melva over and placed her hands over Rin's.
"Keep pressure on the wound." He said to them both.
"'The femoral artery is intact. You're going to be fine. Estavio, the big fellow is still out in the car. He's in bad shape, we're going to have to get both of them to a hosp…" Shane was interrupted as the kitchen door swung open and Berserker staggered in. He was standing on his own, a remarkable feat considering the damage that he had sustained, although he leaned heavily on the door frame to support himself.
Shane guided him into a chair and made him lean forwards to inspect the massive gashes that Assassin had inflicted. The wound had already coagulated, a testament to his increased Servant durability and healing, although it was still a horrific injury.
"Go get me some towels." Shane instructed Estavio.
As he was rushing out in the direction of the linen closet the kitchen door swung open once again and Ilya burst into the room. She looked around wide eyed, taking in the injured Servant and her friend lying on the kitchen table with blood oozing out from between her fingers. She quickly rushed over to Rin.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" She gushed, flittering around like a nervous sparrow, unsure of what to do.
"I saw a massive magical spike on the map down at the docks and I knew that's where you were going so I sent Shane out right away and I tried to make him take me but he wouldn't let me and I'm glad you're alright but, oh, I was so worried!"
"I'll be fine." Rin said, trying to calm the distraught girl down. "Can you take care of this? I need to help Berserker."
Ilya glanced at Shane nervously.
"Are you sure?" She asked.
Rin sighed and winced as she shifted slightly.
"I suppose it can't be helped. Go ahead." She said.
Shane looked on quizzically and his expression quickly changed from one of curiosity to one of amazement. Ilya reached out and held her delicate hands a couple of inches over the wound in Rin's leg, which she pulled the bloody dish rag away from to expose. Ilya closed her eyes and concentrated, her voice took on a reverberating, regal quality as she began a self hypnosis chant in German. An arc of magical energy leapt from her fingers like a spark and Rin hissed as fresh pain shot through her stab wound. The muscle writhed like it had a mind of its own, fibrils leaping together to swiftly knit the wound. The skin pulled inwards at the edges, slowly heaping into a long narrow scar part way down Rin's thigh.
The entire spell only took a moment. When the magical glow faded from Ilya's fingers Rin swung her legs down off the table and gingerly tried her weight on them. She could tell that she would be sore for the next couple of days, and there wasn't anything she could do about the scar, but the worst of the injury had been healed away.
On unsteady feet she quickly crossed the kitchen to stand in front of Berserker. His injuries were much more severe than hers so she dug out one of the mana gems that she had secreted in her pocket. She closed her eyes and began to chant, pulling prana from the small green gem and channeling it into a healing spell. She could feel her nerves tingling with the increased flow of prana, directing the healing energies with all the expertise of a surgeon. Berserker's jaw clenched and although the rapid healing process was sure to be agonizing he didn't make a sound. The flesh of his back healed and knotted into a pair of long dark scars, almost indistinguishable amongst the gnarled masses of scar tissue already draped across his frame.
Rin's attention was drawn by a soft thump as Shane dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, a flabbergasted expression plastered across his face. She glanced nervously at Ilya.
"I suppose we've got some explaining to do." She said.
"I suppose you do."
Rin let her self fall heavily into a kitchen chair, took a deep breath, and began.
…
The sun was peeking through the shutters when she finished. Shane had sat through the night, silent and wide eyed, as she had explained who she really was and why she was in Valencia. He had asked a question here or there, his cowboy accent laden with wonder. She, Ilya, and Shane were still clustered around the kitchen table. Berserker loomed in the doorway, his arms crossed and one massive shoulder leaning up against the door jamb. Melva had cleaned the blood that had pooled on the table and eventually came around with steamy mugs of tea for the four of them. She really was a wonder.
But Rin had little concentration to spare for Ilya's other staff members. Her attention was all focused on Shane. For reasons that she could not quite define she found it very important that he should think well of her. What would he have to say now that he knew everything?
Shane sat for a long moment, his eyes traveling back and forth between Rin and Ilya. He took a long sip of his tea, maybe to steady his nerves, maybe to buy himself some time to think. At length he spoke.
"So you two are wizards." He said.
"Magus." Rin corrected.
"And he's the reincarnated soul of a long dead hero." He jerked his head backwards towards Berserker.
"Servant, or Heroic Spirit."
"And he doesn't have any memories, because he was insane when he died."
"Right."
"But he's fine now, 'cept he's weaker than he should be."
"Unfortunately, yes."
"And you need his help to fight six other heroic servants, and if you win you get a wish."
"Correct."
"And Mr. Stabs-a-lot from last night is one of these servant thingies."
"Right. Assassin."
Shane set his cup down and leaned back in his chair. He blew out a lungful of air, clapped his hands on his legs, then ran them through his hair.
"Okay." He said simply.
Rin was taken aback.
"Just...okay? You believe me?"
"I guess I do. I seen plenty 'a strange things in my time. One time I saw a piece of toast with the exact image of the Virgin Mary toasted onto it. 'Sides, it's the only explanation for you healin' up Rin," He said pointing at Ilya, who blushed. "And you healin' up...Berserker? Berserker. Plus there's the explosion from last, well, night before last."
Rin was surprised. There was something bothering her about Shane that she couldn't quite put her finger on, and his easy acceptance of such a difficult concept only compounded her suspicions. Still, she hadn't slept at all last night and the lack of sleep combined with the stress of the ordeal didn't leave her in the best frame of mind for puzzling out mysteries.
Before she could answer the kitchen door swung open and Melva shuffled in. She was holding an ornate telephone on a serving tray, the chord trailing behind her.
"Pardon miss, but you have a call." She said to Rin.
Rin gave Ilya a surprised glance.
"Now? Very well, I'll take it in the hallway." She said. She picked up the handset and stepped out of the kitchen. Ilya and Shane started talking as she left, Shane bursting with questions and Ilya doing her best to answer them. Rin's mind raced. Who could know that she was here? And what could they want with her? Both questions were answered when she picked up the receiver.
"Hello, darling." Came the cloying voice through the handset. Rin stiffened.
"Hello, Magnus." She said flatly.
Magnus Barthomeloi had been one of her classmates when she was in training at the Clocktower. The third son of the unimaginably wealthy, powerful, and influential Barthomeloi mage family, he had viewed the entire Mage's Association as his birthright since he entered the institution. He pursued every goal with the same arrogance and assurance of success, including Rin. He had attempted to woo her, confident that his family connections would win her affections. She had rebuffed him but he had always maintained that she simply needed time to 'come to her senses'. It explained how he knew where she was. The Barthomeloi family maintained one of the most extensive spy networks in the entire Mage's Association. It was rumored that they kept tabs on every mage of note at all times, altho such claims may simply have been bravado. Magnus may have been a blowhard and a dandy, but he had real power by way of his family's connections.
"Oh, you wound me! No need to sound so dour, my sweet. What would you say if I asked you to meet me for lunch? Somewhere trendy and up scale. How about the Resturante de Lujo on the Calle Principal? Say, one o'clock?"
Rin's mind raced. What could he want? That he should call her now was no coincidence, she was sure of that. He was certainly involved in the Grail War, more likely than not as a Master. Could he be luring her into a trap? Unlikely, considering he wanted to meet in a crowded place in broad daylight. Did he wish an alliance? Only slightly less likely. His arrogance would never let him share glory. And considering how weak Berserker was Rin would have little to offer him by way of an alliance. What then? There was only one way to find out.
"I'll be there." Rin said, and hung up.
Her mind was awhirl but with the daunting prospect of sharing a meal with Magnus looming over her all the stress and fatigue of the previous night seemed to hit her like a truck. She hadn't slept at all and the healing spells, both casting and receiving, had taken more out of her than she realized. She could hear Shane and Ilya still talking in the kitchen, so with weary steps she stumbled up the stairs and into her bedroom.
She collapsed onto the bed, determined to get a few hours of sleep before her meeting with Magnus. As her eyes drifted shut, in the half concious moment between waking and sleep, she suddenly realized what had been bothering her about Shane. When he had rescued her and Berserker, and while he had been inspecting their wounds with all the expertise of a field medic, his heavy American accent had vanished completely.