Part 17

A soft sound intruded on the darkness and woke him. Shifting, he blinked against the harsh light and looked around. The room was empty, but the door was open a bit. Curious, he sat up and looked down at himself, wondering why he’d slept in his clothes. It only took a moment before the memory of the previous evening returned and he sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair.

Gaav rose and shucked off his shirt, crumpled it into a ball and chucked it into the corner by the door. A splash from the wash basin full of tepid water finished waking him up and he was finally awake. Spotting his pack near the door, he went to it and dug out his other shirt and was just shrugging it on when the door squeaked open further. Zaira peeked in and spotted him.

“Oh, you’re awake. Good.” She came all the way in and set a basket on the table. “I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some lunch.”

“What happened to breakfast?” he asked as he looked into the basket.

“You slept through it. As it is, this is a late lunch.” She took his arm and tugged him around. “But first, there’s something I’ve got to do.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I’ve got to trim your hair,” she said, producing a brush, comb and a pair of scissors from her pocket.

“What?” he asked again.

“Your hair. It got…melted yesterday and the ends are all ragged. They need to be trimmed up. Now…Hold still,” she said as she started tugging on the ends of his hair.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Can I sit down?” She tugged a bit and he winced.

“No…”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t trim it up if it’s dragging the floor. Unless, of course, you want me to cut it off short. Which I could do—“

“No, that’s okay,” he said quickly. “Just trim off the damaged ends.”

She peered up and around at him and gave him a quick grin. “As if I’d do such a thing.” Then she disappeared and he could feel her tugging at his hair again.

It didn’t take her long. “There,” she said, standing and gathering up his hair and clipping the ring around it. “Good as new and I didn’t need to take off more than…” She paused and picked up a strand and held it up. “Six inches. And you can’t even tell it.”

Gaav took the scrap of hair from her and laid it on the table near the wash basin. “Thanks,” he said, squeezing her hand. “For…everything.”

The tiny woman nodded and smiled. “It’s what friends do for one another. But…” She poked him in the chest. “You still need to explain to me what happened last night.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. “I…uh…”

“Why don’t you start with who would want to kill you?”

He laughed; a quick bark of mirthless laughter. “Quite a number of people, actually.”

“Why?”

“Because…I’m…” He sat down and looked at her, and saw that her eyes were wide and bright—and quite relentless. Sighing, he gestured helplessly as she hopped onto the table and sat perched on the edge. She pinned him with an intense look, and he knew he wasn’t going to escape by hedging. “Zaira, I’m not going to lie to you: I’m wanted by some very powerful people. They want me dead and they mean to accomplish that any way possible.”

“But why? What did you do?”

He shrugged. “I’m a traitor. I turned against my sworn liege, his cause, and these…people…aren’t the type to let bygones be bygones.”

She sat back. “Gaavan…Why would you do that? Foreswear yourself, I mean.”

“Because their goals aren’t mine any more. They want only wholesale destruction and death. I can’t live with those concepts any more.” He could tell that she was struggling with what he’d just told her about himself. Leaning forward, he reached out and took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Zaira, I would never do anything to harm you. You’ve got to believe me.” This was something Gaav hadn’t counted on; what if she—He couldn’t finish the thought.

“I…I know you wouldn’t,” she said softly. “But tell me…”

“What did I do?” he finished for her when she faltered. He looked at the floor and considered what to tell her. “I was—one of a powerful warlord’s five generals. His second general, in fact. I did a lot of things that people would call evil. I waged war in my liege’s name and I enjoyed it. I killed; I…did other things. Things that I don’t like to remember. But it’s all different now. I just want to live my life somewhere where no one knows who I am, knows what I did.”

“So…last night…one of them found you.” It was not a question.

He nodded. “Yes. We fought and I won. But if one of their agents found me here, others may follow. That’s why I’ve got to leave.” Gaav leaned forward and took her hand. “And I want you to go with me.”

Zaira nodded and looked into his eyes, meeting his gaze steadily. “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “I need to know something, though.”

“What?”

She was silent a moment, as if she were gathering her words. “If I go with you, how do I know you can protect me? From these people that are after you.”

Gaav leaned back and stared at her, anger flaring deep inside. “What do you mean, ‘if?’ I thought you had already agreed—“

“Gaavan.” Her voice, though not loud, cut through his anger. “I’m asking a perfectly valid question. I need to know the answer before I commit myself to leaving Carana with you.”

Biting back the taste of bitter disappointment, he nodded, knowing she had a valid argument. But what could he tell her? That he was an ex-Mazoku that now smelled like a human? “Zaira,” he said in a tightly controlled voice. “You just have to trust in me. I can protect you, in ways you can’t understand. It’s been many, many years since I left the service of my former master, and in all that time, this is the first one that has actually found me. By accident, because they think I’m dead. Last night was…a fluke, something that won’t likely happen again.”

She searched his eyes for several tense moments and the silence between them grew strained. Gaav’s jaw clenched as the seconds stretched into minutes and still she did not say anything. When he was on the verge of exploding, demanding an answer from her, she nodded. “I trust you,” she said softly.

“So you’ll go?”

Again she nodded, with more enthusiasm. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“You did, but for a moment, I thought you were going to change your mind.”

“Never. I just had to be sure, that’s all.” The red-haired woman jumped down from the table and moved close to him, pulling his arms around her waist. “I’d follow you anywhere,” she whispered, putting her arms around his neck and moving between his legs to stand close to him. “To the ends of the earth and beyond.”

He grinned and pulled her close. “Hopefully, that won’t be necessary. Just away from here.”

Laughing softly, she pulled away. “It’s a start.” Leaning in close, she kissed him tenderly as she cupped his cheek with her hand. “Come on, my noble dragon. I want to get to the market—“

He stiffened and pushed her away a bit, holding her tightly by the arms. “What did you say?”

Startled, she shook her head. “I want to take some things to Faruk—“

“No. Before that. What did you call me?”

“I…Noble dragon?”

“That’s it. Why? Why did you call me that?”

“I…I don’t know. It just seems to fit you. Your attitude and the way you carry yourself as proudly and surely as a dragon. Why?”

He relaxed and sighed, pulling her close. “Nothing. It’s just…That’s…what my master used to call me.”

“Oh…I’m sorry, Gaavan, if it upset you—“

“No, it’s not that. I was just startled that you would call me the same thing.”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

He smiled, if a bit crookedly. “I don’t mind. There are worse things to be called than a dragon.”

Zaira sat on his lap and looked down at him. “Like ‘cocky bastard?’”

Gaav’s smile widened. “Hey, if it fits, why not?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Somehow I’m not surprised you actually enjoy being called that.” She hopped down and went to the door. “I’m going to get the things I want to take to Faruk. If you hurry, you can tag along. After Faruk, I thought we’d go see about hiring a caravan.”

“What do you mean, I can tag along?” he growled, propelling himself from his chair after her. She screeched and fled across the hall to her own room. “Wench! Come back here!”

“Make me!” she laughed and shut her door in his face, but not before his large hand shot out and caught it before it closed all the way. With an effortless shove, it opened before him.

“A challenge,” he said, reaching out and catching her wrist to pull her close. “I’ve never been one to turn down a challenge.”

“Geez, you two, don’t you ever stop?” another voice came from inside the room. Gaav looked up and found Stacia sitting in the chair by the window, still stitching on the black silk.

“Don’t you have your own home to go to?” he growled at her, pulling Zaira close.

“No,” she said flatly as she bit off the thread. “Hey! Shut the door! You’ll let Remy out!” Shoving the silk off her lap, the dark-haired girl rose and made a dive towards Gaav’s feet.

“What the hell?” he said as he danced back, slamming the door shut. Something furry pulled back quickly, made a sound like a tortured soul, and streaked across the room to hide in Zaira’s open wardrobe.

“Oh, great. You frightened him,” Stacia said with a glare at Gaav.

“Frightened him? What about me? That—thing—attacked me!”

“Don’t make me laugh,” the serving girl said as she knelt in front of the wardrobe. “Remy, come on out. The big, bad, stupid-looking man won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“Zaira…” he growled under his breath.

“Gaavan…” she said pleadingly. “It’s just Stacia’s cat. He was trying to get out.”

“If it’s her cat, what’s it doing here?”

“Stacia is staying with me until we leave.”

He winced and groaned as he remembered that Zaira had insisted that Stacia come along. “You didn’t say anything about a damn cat,” he growled, eyeing the dark-haired girl evilly.

“Didn’t I?” she said nervously, lightly dancing around Stacia’s crouched form, caught up a large basket from the table and hurried past him. “Imagine that. Come along, Gaavan; we’ve got a caravan to hire.” She pulled the door open and slipped out into the hallway.

Blinking, Gaav turned on his heel and stared after her, wondering just when he’d lost control of the conversation. He shook his head, gave Stacia one last glare, pulled the door shut, grabbed his coat off the hook in the hall and hurried after Zaira. He caught up with her in the common room where she’d stopped to talk to the innkeeper. She saw him coming, said something to the woman and hurried through the room and out the main doors. Gritting his teeth, he clenched his sword in his hand and stepped up his pace after her. “Zaira!” he shouted, drawing abreast of the hurrying woman in the street. He grabbed her arm and pulled her around. “You didn’t say anything about a cat!”

“I must have mentioned Remy. I know I must have,” she hedged, pulling away from him and continuing briskly down Trade Road towards the market.

Growling deep in his throat, he reached out and stopped her with a huge hand on her slim shoulder. “No. You. Didn’t.” Each word was dangerously emphasized.

Finally, she turned to him with a pleading look on her face. “Gaavan, please. It’s just a cat—“

“No, it isn’t!” he roared at her. “First, you wouldn’t leave without that mouthy wench—“

“Would you stop calling her that?” she shouted back. “She has a name, you know!”

“And now there’s her psycho cat!” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “What’s next? The cat’s wife and kittens? Their pet mice?”

“You’re not being fair!” she yelled at him, unconcerned that they were standing in the middle of the road and everyone was looking at them.

“No, I’m not! I don’t want to be saddled with a lot of extra baggage—“

The look of outrage on her face told him he’d said exactly the wrong thing. “Baggage? Is that was you think of me?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You did, too. Just now.”

“I didn’t call you baggage—“

“No, just my only friend—who is like a sister to me—and the only thing in this world she cares about.” She glared at him so hard, he thought she was going to knock him off his feet without even touching him. “I’m not abandoning the only family I’ve had besides my mother and I won’t make her leave Remy behind. So you’ve got a decision to make: It’s either all of us—or none of us.” With that, she turned and stalked off, leaving him to stand there gaping at her.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he stared after her. He turned and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck. How does she manage to do this to me?” he muttered under his breath as he spun around and hurried after her. “She could give Zelas lessons in bitchiness.” He caught up to her and reached out to grab her arm only to have her slip easily away in the crowd. “Dammit. Zaira!” he roared. Like magic, the crowd parted, leaving the road between the two of them clear. The dancer turned and gave him a poisonous glare.

“What?”

He opened his mouth to say something scathing, to exert his authority over her, to demand that she reconsider or he’d leave that very moment, but found the words would not come. Those were not the sort of things he wanted to say to her. Throwing up his hands in defeat, he heaved a heavy sigh. “All right. She can come—and bring her damn cat.”

The change in Zaira’s expression was complete. The glare melted away to leave her eyes shining at him. She dropped her basket and hurried towards the tall man as if to hug him. Bitter disappointment at the realization that she’d just adroitly manipulated him into getting exactly what she wanted flashed through him like a magnesium flare. Something must have shown on his face for she stumbled to a stop without touching him. “What?” she asked, her eyes clouding with concern.

“That’s it?” he demanded.

“What’s what?” she said, looking around and pulling him out of the main stream of traffic. There were benches set along the river front and she tried to get him to sit down on one, but he refused. Instead he stood there, not looking at her, hands deep in his pockets. He watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye as she leaned against the back of the bench and looked up at him. “Gaavan…What’s wrong?”

“Zaira,” he said at last, still not looking at her. He knew he couldn’t just dismiss what she’d just done to him, and yet he really sure how to bring up the subject. “Do you even realize what you just did?”

The red-haired girl stared at him in confusion. “What did I just do?”

He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Nothing—no, that’s not right,” he amended quickly. “I said I wouldn’t lie to you and I won’t. Ever. I don’t like being treated like a doormat, Zaira.”

Her mouth fell open only to shut with a snap. Her lips pressed together and she looked at her feet. “I guess I did treat you like one, didn’t I?” she said.

He nodded. “Yeah. You did.”

“It wasn’t what I intended; you should know that,” she said, looking back up at him and straight in the eye. “I won’t lie to you, either, Gaavan. I want to leave this place, and I want to come with you, but I will not leave my friend behind. She’s all the family I’ve got, and Remy’s like family, too.“

“Why do you think I agreed to let her come? Because it means so much to you, not because you browbeat me into it. I’m not happy about the way you sprung this one me, though, and I’m not going to hide that from you.”

She nodded. “I know. I realize that now. But I have to admit, that I’m scared, too. It’s not that I think you can’t protect me,” she added quickly as he started to protest. “It’s more…I don’t love this place, far from it. I hate it. I guess I was frightened that you would make me choose between you and Stacia. I don’t think I could have lived with that.” She paused and looked up at him. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“I do, but the way you went about trying to secure their passage out of here was—If you wanted them to come, all you had to do was say something. Talk to me about it and we’d’ve worked something out. Don’t trick me or try to manipulate me.”

“But I did try to talk to you—“

He sighed. “Zaira, even I admit that neither of us was in the best frame of mind to discuss anything of importance last night. And even then, you still presented it as given that she was coming along. It would have been nice if you’d’ve asked instead of ordered.”

The red-haired dancer managed a wry smile as she nodded. “Just like it would have been nice if you’d’ve asked me to go with you instead of barging in on me and ordering me to start packing?”

Gaav’s own mouth opened then snapped shut. Grudgingly, he nodded. “Yeah. Like that. Look,” he added. “I’m not telling you this because I want to hurt you or make you feel bad. I just want to make it clear that I don’t like it.”

Zaira pushed against the bench and stood straight and tall in front of him. “I’ll remember that and try not to do it again—if you promise the same.”

With a reluctant nod and a crooked grin, he held out his elbow to her. “Fair enough. Let’s go lean on Faruk,” he said, nodding towards the basket she’d dropped earlier.

“Sounds wonderful.” She retrieved her basket, linked her arm with his and together they followed the flow of people into the market place.

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