Part 14

Feeling refreshed and clean again, Gaav strode along the corridor towards his room, running a hand along his chin to make sure he had gotten all the stubble shaved off. His long stride shortened when he noticed both his door and Zaira’s standing open, the light streaming into dark hallway from them. A moment later he stepped up his pace and hurried to his open doorway.

He didn’t realize he’d been breathing hard until he let out an explosive breath when he saw Zaira curled up on his bed and sleeping peacefully. Confused, he stepped back and looked into her room—and found Stacia sitting in a chair by the window, squietly sewing with several yards of shiny black silk spilling across her lap.

“She’s fine,” the girl said, looking up briefly from her stitching.

The former Dark Lord ran a hand along his chin to cover his embarrassment at his fear. “So I see. Why are you in here?” he asked. “Not that I care. Just curious.”

“Light’s better over here. Not that I care, mind you.” She went back to her stitching.

“Oh.” Gaav watched her a moment longer before turning to look at Zaira. “How is she?”

“She’s fine. Just tired.” Stacia tugged on her thread as she untangled an errant stitch. “Was what you said earlier true?” she asked. “About how seriously she was hurt.”

Gaav turned and looked at the girl and nodded. “Worse, actually. I—the healer, that is—said the blow to her head could have killed her if—if it hadn’t been treated right away.”

The girl nodded and stared at the material in her hands. “Then…I want to thank you. For helping her.”

Shrugging, Gaav leaned against the doorjamb and watched Zaira as she slept. “I couldn’t let anything happen to her.”

Stacia nodded but didn’t say anything else, just went back to her stitching. Gaav gave her a quick look then pushed against the jamb, hands deep in his pockets. “I need to…go out. I’ll probably be gone most of the afternoon. Is there any of that food left?”

“A little. We’ll need more.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out another small leather pouch on the small table next to her. “Don’t spend it all this time,” he growled as he turned to go—only to pause and look around. Realizing that this was the first time he’d ever been in Zaira’s room—or even seen the inside—he turned a slow circuit and stared in wonder at the sight: Scarves of deep jewel-tone silks hung from the ceiling, covering the plain walls in a kaleidoscope of color. A table was covered in richly embroidered items several layers deep. Pillows of all shapes and sizes were stacked in the corner of the room on her pallet. There were several hangings here, forming a sort of tent over her bed; they were pulled back and tied with more scarves. A low table, low enough for someone to kneel at, was positioned next to the bed.

“Something else, isn’t it?” Stacia said, looking up at him from under her dark brows.

Unconsciously, he nodded as he walked over to the wardrobe. The doors stood wide open and there was no way they could have closed considering that her caftans and costumes hung from every corner available. He lifted a dark blue scarf, heavily beaded and sewn with coins. “It’s not as I imagined it would be.”

“And what did you imagine it would look like?”

That gave him pause. “I…I don’t know. Just not this.” Abruptly, he turned and headed towards the door. Once outside in the corridor, he paused and said over his shoulder, “Don’t let her go to Derry’s tonight if I’m not back. I paid him enough to cover the next several nights.”

“I’ll sit on her myself if she tries to go.”

“Good.” For a moment it seemed as if he were going to say something else, but he just shrugged and continued on down the corridor to the back stairs.

Outside, Gaav looked up and down the lane. Already the sun was on its westward journey towards sunset and he realized that their “breakfast” had actually been a late lunch. Pushing his unruly hair out of his face, he chuckled softly to himself as he turned westward down the lane away from the river and to Market Road. There he turned left, wanting to avoid the marketplace, and then turned right onto Ogre’s Head Lane, so named because of a strange rock outcropping shaped, some said, like an ogre. Personally, Gaav thought it looked more like a troll’s head, but who was he to argue with whomever had named the road?

He hurried along, scanning for his marks quickly and not stopping at a lot of them. It had been several days since he’d been this way and while the seals needed reinforcing, he wanted to get back to the inn and Zaira before dark. As he approached River Road, he forced himself to go slowly, carefully checking each mark. There would be plenty of time to get back to the inn and he’d put this off long enough. However, he took comfort in the fact that none of the seals had been disturbed, and so even taking his time, he made good progress as he worked his way through the main streets, working his way north and west towards the West Gate.

Gaav’s lip curled upward in a snarl as he approached the six-walled temple of the Dragon God. He could feel the power emanating from the place and it set his teeth on edge. The wide avenue that was God’s Road was full of people heading for the temple for the evening worship service and this slowed his progress. He kept to the far side of the street and hurried by the looming bulk of the temple, even though he paused long enough to glance towards the large seal he had slapped onto the gate leading to the grounds of the temple in a fit of pique the first day he’d been here. It had been a dangerous move, he admitted, and yet the fact that he’d done it (and gotten away with it) gave him enough satisfaction to keep it there. As he passed the gate, the snarl turned into a smirk and his hurried pace slowed to an arrogant swagger as he continued on with his rounds of the city.

* * *

Something caused the shadow creature to lift its head and listen closely. Its sensitive nose worked as it scanned the lane with its Astral vision. Something was coming towards it; something familiar seeming. Something powerful. It rose to its feet and peered out of the hole in which it had patiently hidden for the last three days. Just the day before, it had felt the stirrings of that power that had brought it here, but had decided the best course of action was to remain here, lying in wait. Let the unknown power come to it.

The sun was going down and the crowds of people were beginning to thin with the closing of the West Gate. Most of the people were moving away from the gate and yet there were a few headed towards the gate. One in particular drew the Mazoku’s attention: A tall man with long red hair, wearing a garishly colored coat with a huge sword strapped to his back.

For several long moments, the Mazoku stared at the man thinking that this was impossible. It had to be a coincidence. A low whine sounded in the beast’s throat as he though of what the Mistress was going to do when it reported this. The Mazoku slipped out of its hiding hole and padded silently through the standing stones to watch the man closely. Any doubts as to the man’s identity were dispelled as he touched the glowing mark, causing it to flare briefly before shifting from silver to red. Convinced, the Mazoku’s lips pulled back in a grim smile as it approached. “My, this is quite unexpected,” it sent using its Astral voice.

The man whipped around, the skirts of his coat flaring outwards and his hair whipping around him. “Who’s there?” he demanded.

Chuckling, the Mazoku stepped out of the shadows and circled the man. “Just this lowly one—Chaos Dragon Gaav.” It pronounced the name of the traitor with confidence for as it looked at the image of the mark, it could now make out the Dark Lord’s seal contained within it. It wondered why it had not recognized the power held within the seal.

The man’s face twisted into a heavy sneer. “So its you. One of Zelas’ Shadow Wolves. What are you doing here?”

The Mazoku’s lips pulled back in a snarling smirk to match the one on Gaav’s face. “Waiting for you, Gaav.” It padded forward quietly, circling the flame-haired man.

“That’s Lord Gaav to you,” he said, turning to follow the Mazoku as it circled him.

“Not for a long time, traitor.” The wolf approached the stone with the seal marked upon it. Deliberately, it sat on its haunches, turned partly away from the former Dark Lord in a subtle insult. It motioned towards the mark with its snout. “I did not even recognize the scent of your power. Even now, with you standing there, you do not smell like a Mazoku.”

Still sneering, the tall man crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared down his long nose at the huge shadow wolf. “And just what do I smell like?”

Turning its head, it eyed the man standing beside it. “You smell like a human.”

To its surprise, Gaav laughed—a deep, throaty bark that mocked the Mazoku. “And that’s supposed to wound me?” Sobering, he pinned the Mazoku with his steely eyes and leaned forward. “Listen, dogface, I’ll tell you a secret: I don’t give a fuck what I smell like to you. I still have more power than you’ll ever have.” A dangerous glint came into his eye as he regarded the Mazoku. “Of course, now that I’ve told you, I’ll have to destroy you.”

It was the wolf’s turn to mock the man. “I doubt that. Your power has changed; you have changed. You’re a weak human now. It won’t be so hard to take your head from you and present it to my Mistress.” Moving faster than any human could have followed with their eyes, it lashed out a paw and slashed across the seal.

The ring of steel was loud in the darkness as Gaav drew his sword. He grasped the long sword easily in one hand and dropped into a defensive position. A grim smile curled his lips upward as he stared at the wolf. “Try and take it,” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous. “If you think you’re good enough.”

The Mazoku lowered its head and bared its wickedly sharp teeth. Saliva dripped and smoked in the dust around its feet. “Oh, I’m good enough,” it snarled, circling to the left, weaving between the stones, shifting between the shadows as it did so. “And I do so enjoy the taste of human blood.”

* * *

Gaav watched the Shadow Wolf shifting between the shadows of the stones, its red eyes baleful and shining in the darkness. He held is sword surely and confidently in front of himself, and a thrill went through him, tempered as it was by apprehension. It had been so long since he’d battled something with any measure of power he found himself looking forward to this confrontation. He wasn’t used to hiding; it went against his nature even though he told himself it was the best way to survive. He trained with the men of the garrison here in town, but even then he had to hold himself back for few humans could come close to his skill with a sword. But now, facing a Mazoku…The grin that twisted his features matched the Mazoku’s in its lust for blood.

They circled one another, each eyeing the other to see who would make the first move. The wolf crouched and feinted to the left; Gaav saw through it and didn’t react. Instead, he continued to hold the creature’s gaze, boring into those burning eyes and with his own steely ones.

They circled one another for another moment before the Mazoku leapt towards Gaav. He slipped easily out of the way, bringing his sword around to clip the beast on the back of the neck as it went by. But it was too fast and his blow didn’t touch it at all. It slipped under and away through the shadows of the stones. And the chase was on.

Gaav slipped through dimensions after it only to be brought up short as the thing lunged at him from behind a stone. Dancing backward a step, he brought his sword up in a silvery blur that cut through the standing stone as cleanly as if it had been butter. The wolf dodged the falling stone and slipped in behind the Dark Lord, thinking to hamstring him, but Gaav was a step ahead of the creature and the vice-like jaws closed on air. Dazed, it stumbled away, taking refuge behind another of the standing stones.

“Thinking you’ve bitten off more than you can chew?” Gaav laughed as he sliced through three stones with one lazy swing of his sword. The wolf slipped between shadows to avoid being crushed, but Gaav was already there, leading the creature. Stone after stone crashed to the ground as Gaav chased the Mazoku through the shadows.

Desperately, the wolf retreated from the treacherous trap the area around the stones had become and into the open street. The few people in the street screamed and fled as a wolf the size of a horse appeared before them, slavering and growling viciously. It slashed at a man who was slow to get out of the way but pulled up short as the deadly blur of Gaav’s sword intercepted it before it could reach its target.

Howling in pain, the wolf turned on Gaav, snarling and foaming at the mouth only to find that the Chaos Dragon was no longer there. Gaav shifted behind it in the blink of an eye and slashed at it again, sword connecting with the thick muscle of its shoulder. As it backed away, Gaav caught the man who had been attacked and shoved him away. “Get out of here,” he growled, not taking his eyes from the Mazoku. He sensed rather than saw the man nod vehemently and stumble away.

“Compassion, Chaos Dragon?” the wolf growled, voice dripping with contempt. It turned its gaze towards a group of men and women backing away in fright. Casting a sly look Gaav’s way, it lunged at them, great maw wide and teeth bared.

Black blood splashed over them as they tried to scramble away. The wolf, howling in pain, stumbled back as its opponent suddenly appeared in front of it, sword flickering and dancing in front of it. It fell back in the face of that cold fury, unable to match Shabranigdu’s former General.

“What of it?” Gaav said as his sword flashed back and forth, slashing at the wolf. The creature could find no reprieve from that cruel sword as it slashed and bit at it. Blood matted its fur from dozens of small wounds and dripped onto the dusty cobblestones, making its footing treacherous and slick.

“Compassion is a weakness,” the wolf managed to rasp out past the pain of its wounds. Whipping its great head around, it oriented on the sound of running feet. Ducking under that flashing sword, it hared off down the alley after its new quarry in a ploy designed to capitalize on that perceived weakness.

Overbalanced as his sword bit into nothing but air, Gaav stumbled then slid to one knee as he slipped in a puddle of black blood. Swearing heartily under his breath, he raced off after the Mazoku, tracking it through dimensions and hoping that he could get to it before it someone got hurt.

A scream from the alley urged him to greater speed. He skidded to a halt as he found the giant wolf crouched over a woman, its great bulk pinning her to the ground. She looked at him with eyes wide with fear and pleaded for him to help her. Those pleading eyes closed and he could hear her praying between her moans of fear as the nightmare creature lowered its head and ran its slavering tongue across her face.

“She tastes sweet. Human fear is so very tasty. Don’t you remember, Chaos Dragon? You used to thirst for it yourself.”

Gaav’s face twisted in disgust but he ignored the thing’s comment. “Let her go. Your fight is with me.”

The wolf’s lips pulled back in a snarling smile as he raised his head to regard Gaav. “Pleading for this puny mortal’s life. How…intriguing.” It put a huge paw over the woman’s face and pressed it downward. “What will do you to protect her, I wonder?”

Instinctively, Gaav took a step forward only to be drawn up short as the woman screamed. The sound was horribly muffled by the huge paw. Dangerous fires lighting in his eyes, Gaav gripped his sword. “Let her go,” he rasped one more time. “Let her go or I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” the Mazoku mocked. “It seems that you can’t do anything. Come any closer and I’ll crush her skull.” It cocked its head to the side and looked at Gaav curiously. “Tell me, do you have a conscience to go along with your compassion, Gaav? If I take this woman’s life, will it eat at your human soul?”

“That’s none of your business,” Gaav snarled, flexing his fingers on the hilt of his sword and clenching the fingers of his other hand into a fist so hard that his fingernails bit into his palm and he could feel the warm blood flow across them.

“But I think it is.” The thing’s tongue flickered as it licked its wickedly pointed teeth. “Shall I kill her? Will you care? Or will it wound you?” After a moment’s consideration, the thing continued. “I think the latter.”

Gaav stood there, silent and helpless. He couldn’t get to the wolf fast enough to keep it from killing the woman. He looked down and for the first time noticed the spill of hair on the cobblestones under the wolf’s paw: It was red; red as blood. Red as Zaira’s hair. For a moment, his stomach clenched in fear and he thought he would be violently ill until he remembered that Zaira was safe back at the inn. But still…The thought that this could have been her upset him more than he wanted to admit. And yet…What could he do?

A barking laugh drew his attention back to the Mazoku. It was laughing softly at him, tongue lolling out of its mouth, and Gaav realized that his thoughts had been plainly written across his face.

“How pathetic,” it laughed—just before it callously rose to its feet, pressing its paw downwards. The scream that started as the downward pressure increased cut off suddenly with a sickening liquid gurgle and Gaav thought he really would be sick as he took a stumbling step backwards. “It is time to end the charade that is your life, traitor. You are an insult to all Mazoku and I intend to correct that.”

Rage welled up in Gaav from some shadowy place; rage and other emotions he barely had time to find names for rushed up and assaulted him, driving him to his knees as they knocked the breath from him in their intensity. Gasping, he climbed clumsily to his feet to face the Mazoku. “You fucking piece of shit,” he rasped between ragged breaths. Without consciously thinking about it, his sword was up and slicing through the air towards the wolf’s head before the Mazoku could fully react. It sliced through its shoulder, nearly severing one leg before it lodged and stuck fast.

The Mazoku screamed with pain. It tried to jerk away from Gaav, but he had grabbed hold of the thing’s thick ruff and pulled it close. He ground his sword back and forth in the wound, blinded by his rage and fury, forcing the blade further down the wolf’s body as if he intended to split it lengthwise.

Desperately, the wolf snapped at his attacker, trying to latch onto a leg or an arm in a crushing grip, but got only a mouthful of hair. The stench of burning hair filled the alleyway as the thing’s acidic saliva melted it away. Gasping and spitting the stuff out, the Mazoku chose the only option left open to it: It slipped into the Astral dimension.

Gaav anticipated the murdering thing’s move and shifted right along with it. Here in the Astral plane, he roared with rage as his physical form burst outward to reveal his true nature. The Mazoku felt the sword that was embedded deep in its body enlarge and lengthen; the pain increased to burning agony as the steel blade became dragon fangs.

Two great heads reared back and screamed out with rage, elemental plasma spewing from their mouths. The third and middle head held the Mazoku tightly between its teeth, crushing it. The ethereal substance of this dimension melted and flowed in silvery rivulets under the dragon’s heavy feet. The air itself curdled and liquefied as the fires blazed around the two beings.

The dragon dropped the crushed and broken Mazoku to the ground in front of it and brought all three heads around to bare on it. Rendered helpless and suffering agony beyond anything it had ever experienced, the Shadow Wolf whimpered with fear before the true form of the Chaos Dragon King gone mad with rage.

Pathetic? the three heads asked in unison, the great voice blazing with the same intensity as the fire that had spewed forth from those mouths just a moment before. So great was it, that the Mazoku felt rather than heard the voice, and writhed in renewed pain. A great foot came down and pinned the Mazoku just as it had pinned the helpless human just moments before. You dare call me pathetic? You sniveling, meaningless piece of filth! The dragon heads smiled as two pulled back and the third bent in closer to eye the suffering Mazoku. Didn’t I tell you I was still more powerful than you? Of course, you didn’t believe me and had to go and make me prove it. The dragon heads chuckled as the middle one pulled back to the same level as the other two, and together the three great maws opened. Nuclear fire burned in the triple throats and the Mazoku realized that it had made a fatal mistake. The Shadow wolf’s low whine turned into a high-pitched scream as three great gouts of flame spewed forth to engulf it. Writhing, the thing dissolved under the onslaught as skin and flesh boiled and bubbled away until there was nothing left of the creature; neither blood, nor hair, nor even a lingering scent of the brutish beast was left to signify it had ever existed.

Slayers copyright 1991-2000 by Hajime Kanzaka/Rui Araizumi/Kadokawa Shoten/TV TOKYO/SOFTX/Marubeni.
The other characters copyright Wendy W Lee.