Ruby Dreams

Part 7

Zelgadis rested his back against the cold stone of the wall in Rezo's chamber, drawing one leg up from the matching chill of the floor to wrap his arms around it. He resisted the urge to lay his head on his knee, having been reprimanded once for hiding his face. The priest preferred him to keep his hands, eyes and mouth in plain view, to prevent any subtle attempts to free himself. No objections were made, however, when he turned his head away, catching sight of something that drew his attention. To his immediate right, a soft haze coalesced into familiar, if dim, features. Trying very hard not to let the catch in his breathing be noticed, he glanced as casually as he could back to the man in white and red robes watching him carefully. Though Rezo gazed at him steadily through narrowed, mismatched eyes, their penetrating stare did not seem to catch the form of Zwolf that had appeared next to the chimera.

Turning his eyes back to the rather misty face of his friend, Zel gave the apparition a look of mixed relief and pleading. He couldn't speak to Zwolf's spirit, naturally, and yet, despite the comfort the mere presence of his friend lent, he felt another need pressing hard at his heart.

"Zelgadis-sama. . ." the voice in his mind was sorrowful and unusually low. "I'm sorry..."

He could see it in Zwolf's eyes as well, and he wanted to shake his head to deny the guilt he saw there, but he didn't dare.

"We didn't see this, Zelgadis-sama. Not until it was too late to warn you. Shabranigdo's energy is unusually strong in this city, and now I suspect that it is not because you are here or losing your struggle." Zwolf frowned. "I think that this copy Rezo holds a strong draw for the Dark Lord's energy as well, and with you both in the same place and..." the voice seemed to grow softer and lower, "and old patterns being played out once more...damn it all, Zel-sama, we have to put an end to this!"

Zel ducked his head slightly, then slowly raised it again, never taking his eyes from Zwolf's - - the closest to a nod that he could manage under the circumstances. The sorcerer's grim face cracked in a small smile at Zel's continued willingness to fight, and at the reason he suspected the young man was so determined. "Of course, if not for all this, we might never have known how you felt about the swordsman."

He watched Zel's eyes drop away from his face and their blue depths cloud slightly with worry. "You didn't realize how much you felt for him until now, did you?" he pressed. He didn't like adding to Zelgadis's distress, but he needed to know about his friend's feelings for Gourry - - they were important to the situation. Zel caught his gaze again at last, and he could read the emotions there easily. The chimera had no choice but to let his eyes speak for him, since it was the only way he could communicate with Zwolf at the moment.

"Mmn. You're still a little unsure of things," the sorcerer stated.

Zelgadis was unsure. He knew he wanted Gourry to be safe and happy and completely free from this mess. Right now, it almost seemed as if the ties keeping the swordsman from that freedom were all caused by Zel himself; in particular, at the moment it was Zel's love for him that was placing Gourry in danger, at least the way the shaman saw it.

Yes, it was love, of that Zelgadis was now certain. But he wasn't at all certain that he wanted to give it free rein in his heart. Really, he was afraid to explore the depth of that affection or let it grow or guide him, because to him it seemed that it was only harming the one it was focused on. And that was the last thing he wanted. If Zelgadis's love only brought Gourry pain. . .Zelgadis didn't know how to stop it, that's what was so frightening.

Zwolf's voice in his head interrupted his thoughts, startling him enough to make him flinch. "Think about it until you are sure, Zel-sama. Your love for this swordsman might be far more important than you realize, if it's true. It could be the key to - -"

A blinding burst of white light cut off the mage's voice and image, forcing a cry of shock and fear from Zelgadis before he could stop himself. "Zwolf!"

"What are you doing, Zelgadis?" Rezo asked in a low, threatening tone. "I could feel the energy over there. What are you up to?"

Zel searched for any sign of his friend before answering, but he could see nothing. A cold ache settled in his chest, giving his words as he turned an unmistakable touch of venom.

"It was a ghost! A spirit, nothing more - - what did you do to him?"

Rezo didn't give a reply. Instead, he dipped his chin thoughtfully. "Zwolf, you cried out," he mused. "That comrade of yours who turned against Rezo as well and was destroyed." A touch of amusement entered his words. "Still trying to protect you, I assume, and failing."

"What did you do!?" Zelgadis repeated angrily. He caught himself and clenched his fists at his impotence. He couldn't threaten or attack Rezo right now, no matter how much he hated him or how furious and hurt he was over what might have happened to Zwolf. Rezo was aware of that as well, and did not react to the outburst.

"That is nothing to concern you, Zelgadis," he said in an even tone. "Zwolf is already dead, and certainly doesn't belong here causing trouble among the living. You should be worrying about your task: to get the Sword of Light for me. If you fail, I will be forced to take matters into my own hands, and I very much doubt that you want that."

The priest's words, and Zelgadis's efforts to contain his outrage, were interrupted as the doors opened, filtering a breath of the night air into the room and admitting Zangalus, who approached Rezo with a purposeful stride and an angry light in his eyes. "The meeting place and time are set," he told the man in a tight voice. "Ah, good," Rezo replied with a slight nod, more to himself than to the mercenary. But Zangalus wasn't finished.

"Why did Eris follow me?" he nearly growled, keeping his temper barely reigned. "Did your message require a sorceress to deliver it?" Rezo lifted an eyebrow briefly at the swordsman's sarcastic tone, but answered the question frankly. "Given your enthusiasm for challenging Gourry Gabriev, I felt that a sorceress might be required to remind you of the limits of your task. She did not interfere?" Thrown off guard at having his mocking inquiry answered seriously, Zangalus stuttered. "N-no, but. . ." "Very well," the Red Priest continued without waiting for comments beyond the confirmation he had requested. "Rest, then, until it is time to greet our 'guests' again."

He turned away and moved silently toward the inner mansion, leaving Zangalus to stare after him in disbelief at the callous gall of the man. "Come, Zelgadis. I'm afraid you will have to spend the night without accommodations of your own, since we have none prepared, but you will need your rest as well."

Zel followed, reluctantly but obediently, through the twists and turns that led them inward and downward. He could feel the difference in the air as they passed the level of the ground and continued deeper, into a chamber that was more like a cavern than a room, though well furnished. There, Eris greeted them with an anxious face, quite obviously concerned about her 'Rezo-sama' for some reason. Zelgadis kept his expression impassive, but he noted her nervousness and devoted his full attention to discovering what the reason for her worry could be. There had to be some weakness, some flaw in Rezo's apparent strength, to cause such protectiveness, and that knowledge could prove very valuable to the shaman.

Without acknowledging her extremely warm greeting, Rezo said in a voice heavy with displeasure, "You allowed Zangalus to see you." Taken by surprise, the normally self-assured sorceress stumbled her reply. "He - he didn't seem to notice, Rezo-sama. . .and he delivered the message without taking matters any further. Perhaps it is because he knew I was watching his performance, " she added haughtily. Rezo was unimpressed, and he let it be known, as Zel studied their disagreement with keen interest. "He succeeded in his mission, while you failed at yours. I cannot afford such incompetence in my followers."

Zel saw the hurt in Eris's eyes at the sharp words. She recovered quickly, however, and goaded by the sting of the reprimand, she summoned a vicious retort. "Follower?" she echoed in a tone of matching contempt, "I followed Rezo. I created you." It almost seemed to their captive that the tension that sprang through the air in the silence following her words filled the vaulted room and yet made it more hollow. He didn't bother to hide his interest in their quarrel any longer, since neither was paying him any close attention. "And yet," Rezo finally said softly and simply, "I am your superior in knowledge, in skill, and in power. I am Rezo's superior." Without further ado, he motioned to Zelgadis to follow again and brushed past her, moving toward what looked to the shaman like a throne. The arrogance it spoke of raised the youth's hackles. The other surroundings proclaimed the place a laboratory, yet another like the one a few stories above. And still not old enough to be the one he had come to the city looking for. But perhaps here there was a clue to the whereabouts of the other, if he could steal a few moments unobserved. . .

"No." Eris's voice startled him from his concentration. "No, you're not his better. You're my. . .his second chance, his avenger. And we can't risk your foolish pride spoiling our vengeance on his murderers!" She had stopped the slight trembling his words had caused her, and stared at him with determination. He paused by the elaborate seat, looking down from the dais on them both, his irritation apparently having reached some sort of limit. "I'll look after Zelgadis while you rest," she offered in a more conciliatory way. "We have to work together until you've gained the strength of the legacy. . ." A hand tightened almost imperceptibly around his staff, and he murmured, "Do we," before swinging it against the chair and releasing a burst of force that left the odd piece of furniture a twisted, slightly smoking ruin. "What - " Eris shrieked at the Red Priest's unmoving calm, "Why did you destroy it?! How will you recover your strength in time for - " Rezo laughed, cutting her short.

"Recover? My dear, you've fallen behind. You have no idea how much power I actually have. It has definitely increased while you wove your petty schemes for revenge. Perhaps it is time I showed you why I have no need of your little devices." He permitted himself a short bark of amusement. "Indeed, why I have no need for you."

Eris sputtered in shock while Rezo approached her easily, not menacingly, and Zelgadis backed slightly away from them. Although Rezo's attention was trained on the sorceress, Zelgadis felt the bonds tighten warningly, and stopped where he was, mentally cursing his enchanted body yet again. The priest spared him no more effort, coming to stand directly in front of the woman who had made him. With a graceful, fluid gesture, he dropped something that glinted red into the palm of her hand, whispering "Yours, I believe." She stared at it wide-eyed. It was a jewel, identical to the ones the copies of Vrumigan had worn in their foreheads. A gem meant to focus her control of her creations. "Impossible," she breathed, the last breath she was ever to draw. A flash of light from Rezo's hand opened her throat in less than an instant, the robed man still somehow managing to avoid the blood that flew up in a rain and flowed down the pale remains of her neck in a thick stream which she followed to the floor. Within seconds, she lay lifeless, skin waxy and eyes glassy. Rezo's belated explanation echoed barely in the vaulted ceiling. "I'm afraid your interference has become a hindrance I am unwilling to allow."

Zelgadis stood frozen by horror more than any spell, his gaze locked on the corpse of the monster's creator while the muttered words of a spell filled the chilly damp of the air. Within moments, no trace remained of Eris or the stained rug on which she had lain. Zel shivered suddenly, feeling a little sick at the dawning realization that this was Rezo, uninfluenced by Shabranigdo or the injustice of blindness. This was a man well aware of the fact that he controlled his own destiny and was not bound by the past. . .and still he was ruthless, cruel, and power-hungry. So had there never been any hope for Rezo? Was there no hope for Zelgadis? No hope for Gourry, who stood in the way of this madman's ambitions? He tried to shake the disturbing thoughts from his mind, and became aware of Rezo's eyes on him.

"One less obstacle to my plans," he stated smoothly, "and another to be eliminated tomorrow." He smiled at the catch in Zel's breathing that signaled the chimera's fear. "How permanently depends on you, Zelgadis. May I suggest you take your rest?" Zel felt the sleep spell fall around him, and couldn't help but struggle against it, futile as it was. He needed time and information, not sleep! And as he slipped closer to the edge of the inevitable, he knew the dreams were waiting for him, with hard ruby eyes and no Zwolf or Rodimus to keep them at bay. . .perhaps it didn't matter. The dreams were now real again, and the same demons met him whether asleep or awake. With a muffled moan, he surrendered to the shadows that rose over his mind and closed his eyes.

Rezo held his young chimera's limp form, supporting him as he gave in to sleep rather than letting him fall to the floor. The Red Priest's eyes were strangely blank as he lowered Zelgadis to the floor with surprising gentleness. Their unreadable depths flickered for a moment as he watched the youth's even breathing. His blood. The boy was his, his blood, his creation. His predecessor had made use of Zelgadis, but had turned the young man's heart against him, forced him into treachery. He, too, needed to use the chimera, but wasn't it possible to walk the fine line that would allow him to keep, or rebuild, the boy's loyalty? A way to make Zelgadis accept? For now, he had to force the chimera to obey, but with time and patience. . . Rezo turned away. The time for lesser concerns would be his after he had forged the opening to spin his own destiny apart from his predecessor's. Then he could do as he pleased without the shadow-twin's unseeing reflection before him.

Gourry looked up to see Zel running towards him, obviously pursued by something monstrous or evil, from the look on the chimera's face; the blonde man didn't give a damn what it might be at the moment. All he could feel was a relief and joy so strong it felt as if his heart might burst. "Zel!" he called as the shaman drew closer, and reached out to catch him as he stumbled and fell into the taller swordsman. . . but instead of Zel landing safely in his arms, Gourry's hands went through him, plunging straight into Zel's chest. A moment's sensation of heat passed over the warriors limbs, and then Zel landed in a tight ball behind him. Gourry stood still and helpless with a sudden terror that he had hurt his friend, but Zel uncurled and twisted to look at him almost pleadingly. The swordsman felt a hot weight in his hand, and looked down at his loosely closed fist, having to make a conscious effort to unfurl his fingers and look at what he held, cupped now in both hands.

It looked like a stone, but. . .it didn't feel like one. It was warm, almost hot, and it felt. . .alive, somehow. "Gourry. . ." Zel gasped, fixing those incredible blue-grey eyes on him, "my. . ."

It's his heart, Gourry realized inexplicably, this is Zel's heart. But how - as he looked at it in terror and wonder, a crimson bead welled from it and slipped like a tear down to his palm, warm and wet. Blood, bleeding

Suddenly, a pair of hands closed over his own, long slender fingers folding his up to hide his strange treasure again, and he caught the sight of the robes that covered the arms. Rezo! Once again, he didn't know how he knew that, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the rage that filled him. And still, he couldn't move, couldn't turn or break the grip of the hands tightening around his. Blood welled between his fingers, covering both sets of hands. He heard a scream. Zel! They were crushing it, but he couldn't stop the implacable pressure bearing on him. In front of him, he could see Zel collapse in agony, but he could do nothing. Rezo's laughter filled his ears, and then he couldn't see Zel anymore, because the Red Priest stood in front of him, eyes open and burning red.

"Gourry!"

His eyes flew open, focusing after a moment on Lina's pale and still fuzzy face. "Are you all right?" "No. . ." he mumbled, pulling away and trying to shake off the visions from the nightmare. "I mean yeah," he said in a stronger voice, "I'll be okay, I just. . ." "Must have been a pretty nasty dream," Lina interrupted, waving away his excuses. "You were yelling loud enough to wake me up." He rubbed his eyes, feeling a little foolish and yet a little bit still uneasy. "I'm just worried about Zel," he admitted. "I can't stand that I let him down like that." Lina nodded her mute understanding, then yawned. "Well," she said as she started back to her own spot by the fire, "try to get some more sleep anyway. We'll probably all need it." Gourry lay back down, closing his eyes and trying to relax. Just a dream. . . nothing more than that. . . a dream. . .

Zelgadis fought for breath, the air around him so thick and heavy that it choked him and pressed in on him, made him feel as if he were drowning. Panic was urging him to struggle somehow, escape the oppressive place, and at the moment he was doing exactly that; but despair was just on his heels and threatened to swallow him up like the strange liquid air that made it so hard to think or do anything. He tried to summon some seed of strength from within, and his mind brushed a face, a name. . . his lips tried to form it, but a fiery heat stopped them. Rezo's fingers rested there, sealing them - and suddenly the name was gone, and the only thing that remained, the only thing that mattered, was to escape from those burning eyes and hands. It was impossible, he knew it would be, but still he tried, squeezing his eyelids shut against the glow of another's eyes, pushing and pulling his limbs to move against the resistance that made them slow and sluggish.

An arm caught his waist and pulled him tightly against a taller body. He could feel its fevered heat even through the robes that it wore, arms wouldn't move. . . tangled in cloth. . . the form was bending toward him, the arm moving up his back, fingers stroking his neck before the hand forced his head against a shoulder; another hand moved downward, past the small of his back and onto his rear, pressed hips to hips, forcing his back to arch painfully - he felt as if he would snap in two, wanted to, if it meant he could just be free of this. "no no no. . ." he moaned the mantra to the demon priest, to himself, to whoever might hear or care. Familiar laughter drowned even his own words from his ears, Shabranigdo's laughter with Rezo's voice, laughter he simply couldn't bear. "stop. . .stop. . .stop. . ." He couldn't hear himself, but he could feel the rasp of the breath in his throat, the motion of his lips repeating, and still it went on. He couldn't lift his hands to cover his ears, knew it wouldn't do any good if he could, but he couldn't help himself, trying to bury his head deeper into that hated shoulder in its hated robes in his sheer desperation to escape that mocking mirth. The hand fell lower, slipped between his thighs, the laughter continued to ring in his ears, in his mind, until he could stand it no more, and at last some force rose inside to bring him aid. He called out for help, called on Zwolf, then Rodimus, to no avail, and finally nudged the other name onto his tongue, the one name with the power to bring a moment's hope. "Gourry. . ."

Silence fell, and he felt the grip on him slacken. He twisted, opening his eyes to still see the face he had been holding in his mind like a beacon. Gourry, conjured there by his need. . . but still and silent as a statue. The others stood there beside the swordsman - pale, expressionless, and unmoving. Iron arms still held Zel, fingers twitched and curled, resuming their exploration, soundlessly this time, but he felt stronger now, and he shoved backward, breaking away to move toward the tall blonde warrior who had the power to block the monster's influence. He stretched out a hand in gratitude and greeting, stopping cold as he saw something he feared more than the Dark Lord and Red Priest behind him. Gourry recoiled from Zelgadis, fear and disgust in his clear blue eyes. The chimera had never felt such pain as those eyes brought him. He drew his hand back, then let it slip forward again in a timid, feather-light touch on the swordsman's arm, something he tried to stop himself from doing but simply could not.

To his utter horror, the other man burst into flames, causing Zel to cry out and flinch back for only a fraction of a second before he moved forward once more with complete disregard for the withering, blistering heat - but still too late. By that time the intensity of the fire had already consumed his Gourry, leaving nothing but a collapsing pillar of ash which fell through his hands and floated around him in the murky air. He hadn't believed before that moment that such raw agony could exist. It pulled at the magical flames, sucking them into the shaman, who screamed with grief rather than pain. Completely engulfed by the blaze, he felt his will, his soul, burned away - the inferno roaring greedily in the emptiness inside him, feeding on the void.

At last it subsided, dying to a few flickering tongues of scarlet, and leaving him outwardly whole and untouched. He stood where he was, lifeless, no more than a hollowed-out shell. He sensed rather than felt Rezo/Shabranigdo sliding up behind him to stand with the length of his body against the chimera's back. He raised an arm, and Zelgadis the unfeeling, obedient puppet repeated the gesture exactly. Glowing, swirling power gathered in the chimera's hand, and, as he was directed, he held it out toward Lina and those who remained. The pair of horrors sharing Rezo's body leaned in against him more firmly, dropping their head to whisper to him. "You see," the thing murmured intimately, "he cannot save you. One brush of your fingertips was all that it took to mark him for death." Zelgadis stared past the energy that flowed from the hand in question, staining the barren landscape and the people before him a lurid red. His eyes were empty, rejecting both the light and the shadow that surrounded him, blue in sharp contrast to the heated palette painting everything else. "Since you care so much for the warrior, he waits for you in Hell; though you may not recognize him. Have no regrets, Zelgadis. Through me, whatever you love will share your doom."

Shabranigdo commanded him with a gesture. Mindless, soulless, he followed it, releasing destruction on Lina and the young women beside her. As his power washed over them, obliterating them, a tiny, distant part of him shrieked in denial - but the greater part of him immediately inhabiting the situation felt nothing and cared for nothing at all; not his nakedness, not the smoky, burning air filled with hot ash and embers, not the blasted earth under and before him, not their deaths, not the ravages Shabranigdo would commit with his help.

Most of him was dead.

Lina and the group of people who had been thrown into the mess she and Gourry seemed to have landed in sat around the ashes of their campfire, trying to come up with a plan. She was worried about Gourry. At first, he had refused food altogether, and now he sat chewing the breakfast she had pretty much forced on him listlessly, dark smudges under his normally bright blue eyes giving evidence of the nightmares that had disturbed his sleep. His azure eyes were dulled by a far-away look, one that was unmistakably disturbed and unhappy, and not the dreamy one he often got. She didn't blame him, but she wasn't about to demoralize the whole group by moping, and anyway, eating helped her think. It was an unusually slow and subdued meal for her, but if anyone noticed, they didn't comment.

"It's pretty obvious Rezo wants to use the Sword of Light for something, we just don't know what, yet. And it has to be something really important if he went to all the trouble to lure us here, capture Zelgadiss, and set up this meeting with us. The question is, what would someone like Rezo - a sorcerer, and a really powerful one at that - need the sword for? It must do something he can't do himself, with all his power. Knowing that, I'd say the most likely answer is that it unlocks something, probably another source of power. But what would that be?"

She munched for a moment in silence, then almost choked as an idea she didn't like at all came to her.

"Sylphiel, you said you sensed Shabranigdo's power signature."

The other girl looked up, startled. "Why, yes, but. . . you don't mean you think that's why he wants the sword? I don't think even it could kill Shabranigdo."

Lina stared grimly at the forgotten food in her hands. "No. No, it can't. Gourry already tried, once."

"WHAT? You can't be serious!"

"Yes, I am." Lina fixed her with a look that made her protests die on her lips. "The reason we're so certain this Rezo is a copy is that Gourry, Zel and I killed him. And the reason we had to kill him is that he managed to resurrect Shabranigdo. Only it didn't go the way he planned. He thought the Dark Lord was sealed in a tower. Instead, he was sealed in Rezo's own eyes. That was why nothing except the rebirth of Shabranigdo could cure his blindness. It's probably also why he finally went mad enough to try it in the first place. What worries me is that, last time, he needed an item of power to unlock the seal on the piece of Shabranigdo. He used the philosophers stone. But that's gone now. And what's the one item of power we know he knows the location of?"

Amelia gasped, her face suddenly drawn and pale and uncharacteristically old. "Gourry-san's sword!"

Lina nodded. "That's right. I know this is just a copy of Rezo, but. . . even if the Dark Lord isn't sealed in him, Shabranigdo used him once. It would be easier the second time. Even if he's just channeling the Dark Lord. . . I don't know. It's a stretch, using light to unlock darkness. But, then again, we don't know how he plans to use the sword. All we know for certain is that Rezo is here, and at the same time Shabranigdo's energy is gathering again. It seems like way too much of a coincidence to ignore, and there's no way I'm dismissing the possibility until we know more."

She turned to look at Gourry, who had ceased even pretending to eat and sat listening to her with a look on his face that told her he understood enough of what she was talking about to be afraid instead of angry or fretful for the first time since they'd noticed Zel's disappearance.

"If I'm right, we can't let him have that sword. No matter what."

"What if you're wrong?"

"If I'm wrong, we still have Rezo, or, in this case, his copy, to deal with, and we still don't know why he wants the sword. The trouble is, he was really powerful for a copy. At least from what I know. That's part of the problem. Like I said before, I don't know all that much about copies and chimeras. What we need to do is ask an expert. Then we might get some idea of how to deal with him. There might be something we don't know, or he doesn't know, about copies, that we can use against him."

She stood up, dusting her hands briskly once or twice. "Well, it's not much of a plan, I admit, but it's better than sitting around here moping. Come on, let's go!"

Zel stirred to the clinking of rings on a staff, that sound that seemed to follow him mercilessly in and out of consciousness, to wherever he fled in his desperate attempts to escape its relentless wielder. His body tried to curl in on itself, and his mind tried to reject consciousness, but was caught, unwilling to return to the torment of the dreams, either. His eyes slid open on the same gloating visage that had stalked those dreams; he felt a tiny glimmer of guilty relief when he realized that he stared into gleaming, mismatched eyes, and not the glowing red fire of the Lord of Darkness.

"Come, Zelgadiss. It's time you repaid my trouble and made yourself useful to me."

Zel struggled to his feet, noting with dread that Rezo held his sword belt and sheathed blade. "Where is Zangalus?" he asked, hoping that they weren't departing for the rendezvous just yet, that perhaps he still had some time. Rezo's words dashed that hope instantly.

"In this case," he said smoothly, "I believe the mercenary's enthusiasm would be more liability than use. No doubt he will try to join us, but I plan to have finished our business by that time. He will be helpful once we have the Sword of Light - - however, to acquire it, I only need one warrior."

Zel turned his head away, hiding his expression, but he could still feel Rezo's eyes on him harden.

"No tricks, Zelgadiss. You know as well as I that it is impossible for you to defeat me with one strike. And when you fail, I will be forced to take the Sword of Light by whatever means necessary. I much prefer to have you get it for me, since your presence will prevent your comrades from causing me any serious trouble, and I don't want to waste time needlessly on their extermination. However - if I am denied the path of least resistance by your stubborn foolishness, I will take as much time as needed to ensure they never trouble me again. Do you understand?"

Zel nodded sullenly, but his response did not satisfy the priest, who still fixed him with a frosty gaze. "Hai," he said at last, hardly able to force out the words past the lump of resentment and despair in his throat. "I understand."

Rezo accepted the grudging acknowledgment, satisfied for the moment of the boy's cooperation. With a few swift, efficient movements, he fastened the sword belt and weapon around the chimera's waist himself - like a king girding his champion, Zel noted with bitter humor, as he tried not to shrink from the contact. He wasn't sure whether the priest felt this was an honor for him, perhaps a gesture of trust, but he doubted it. More likely Rezo was simply mocking him, although he didn't display even a hint of amusement. Of one thing, Zel was certain. Rezo never did anything purely for practicality, or purely for entertainment - - his motives always included both. Meaning that it served some purpose Zel couldn't yet fathom.

Speculations on that would have to wait, however. Rezo rested a hand on his shoulder, and a faint glow rose to envelop them. Before Zel had time to react or realize what had happened, they were standing in a thick forest that was just beginning to take on the richer green shades of a late afternoon winding into evening. They had been deep underground only seconds before, and the scent and feel of the fresh air was a bracing shock to the young man, chasing the lingering cobwebs of his enforced sleep and the nightmares that had accompanied it from his thoughts and senses. It almost restored some of his spirits, until he realized that he was out of time and options. His only hope was that Rezo was wrong about Gourry's willingness to fight him.

He was confident that Lina and the others. . . well, Gourry, at least. . . could deal with Rezo, if anyone could. Whether he obeyed Rezo or defied him, it would eventually come down to a battle with them anyway, since the Sword was in question. But he would be one of Rezo's weapons in that battle, and that, he couldn't allow. . . at least not until his friends knew how the odds were stacked. They absolutely needed to know everything possible before they took on Rezo and - - Zel clenched his teeth at the admission, but he couldn't deny that at the moment it was true - - and his pet chimera. As long as they knew what they were up against, they could handle it. They had to. Once they saw that Zelgadiss was no longer their companion, but Rezo's pawn, and not to be trusted or dealt with gently, they could do what they had to do. He was counting on that, because it was all that he had. That, and the prayer that the one he loved wouldn't be hurt by him or because of him.

Voices muffled by distance and the dense foliage broke into his distraught musings. Looking up sharply, he determined that they were coming from a clearing a little ahead and just to the right of where he stood. His sinking heart already knew who they belonged to. Rezo slid silently in front of him, moving toward the sound, and Zelgadiss trailed immediately behind, conscious rule of his body having already been completely usurped from him.

"Damn! I wish we had time to investigate before our meeting with Rezo! If that laboratory we heard about really is his, I'll bet it has all kinds of information. Like all of the original Rezo's research on chimeras and copies, and maybe a weak spot that we could definitely use. And maybe a better clue to exactly what this copy intends to do with the sword."

"But Lina, we don't have time," Gourry protested. "And I don't want to leave Zel with that guy that long anyway."

"Me either, Gourry, you know that. I just wish we'd known about it before. I wish we knew more about this, period. Y'know, Zel's known Rezo his whole life. . . maybe he knew about that laboratory too. Maybe that's why he showed up in Saairag, and it's just possible that could be what Copy Rezo wanted with him. . . but I'm still more inclined to think it has to do with getting the sword. Maybe a copy can have the same power as the original person without knowing what they knew, but you don't learn how to use that power overnight. Copy Rezo has to have most, if not all, of Rezo's memories to use his power the way he did, and that means he probably remembers where the laboratory is." She paused thoughtfully. "Unless our copy didn't want Zel telling us what he knows about that laboratory. That would make sense, if the research there has anything to do with what he's planning." Mentally she added, and if that's the case, he's not going to let Zel go until he's ready to finish whatever he's up to. She didn't like that idea one bit.

"Well," Lina amended, "none of that does us any good right now. Let's hope Rezo is in the mood to talk this time, instead of fighting."

"That, my friends, depends entirely on you."

Gourry, Lina, and the other two looked in the direction of the words, to see Rezo standing calmly at one end of the grove. Behind and slightly to his left stood Zelgadiss, unbound and seemingly unharmed, his sword in its scabbard at his hip. Gourry heaved a grateful sigh, releasing some of the pent-up anxiety of the last several hours. Then his gaze, searching for any signs of hurt, met the chimera's, and his heart faltered in his chest at the haunted shadows there, the unspoken urgency they telegraphed. Something was very wrong, but at the moment Gourry had no thought for himself or any of the others.

"Zel!" he called in a voice that held mixed anger and concern, "Are you all right?" Zelgadiss flinched, almost imperceptibly - - but Gourry, who was watching him closely, noticed it and took it as a denial. The blonde man's face set in an uncharacteristically ferocious expression directed at the priest, but Rezo spoke before Gourry could say or do anything. "Zelgadiss is unhurt, and as long as you give me what I came for without any trouble, he will be in no danger. The Sword of Light, if you please."

"Why you. . ." Gourry snarled. Lina elbowed him, cutting him off.

"Nice try, Rezo, but you know we aren't going to do that. Not without knowing why you want it and exactly what you plan to do with it."

"Lina - " Gourry interjected nervously. He shot another look at Zel, who stood silent, tense, and still, watching him intently. What was going on here?

Rezo was smiling. "A sensible request, Lina Inverse. This once I will humor it. The sword is the key to my birthright. As you have surmised, I am not the Rezo you knew, but a decided improvement on the original." He opened his strange eyes, bringing a gasp from the band of uncertain adventurers facing him. "His quest means nothing to me, as you can see. I am only interested in claiming my inheritance and crafting my own destiny with the power and knowledge Rezo misused. The details do not concern you, and my patience in being denied what belongs to me is at an end. So - " All traces of good humor melted from his face. "I will ask only once more. Give me the sword."

"What about Zel?" Gourry growled. The look Rezo turned on him was inscrutable, but the swordsman almost thought he saw a glitter of challenge, there and gone too quickly to say for certain.

"Ah, the chimera. Another instrument created and then senselessly wasted by my predecessor. Don't worry, I intend to make much better us of him."

"Bastard - !" The Sword of Light was already drawn when the word left Gourry's lips, glowing blade leveled at the priest.

"Too bad, Rezo," Lina added from beside her friend, a grin of battle-lust already spreading over her face. "You can't have the sword, and you sure as hell can't have Zel."

"Oh, really?"

The small, arrogant smile was back on the priest's face, and Gourry was already running toward him, sword raised for a strike. Lina summoned a spell, cursing under her breath. Gourry was in the way, and she couldn't do anything until she had a clear shot. Then a flash of movement caught her eye, and she saw Zelgadiss leap in front of the copy-Rezo, his sword clashing with Gourry's. The taller man was driven back a few steps by the unexpected assault, staring in bewilderment at Zel and the glowing red sword his friend had drawn on him. Understanding dawned, and Lina yelled, "Gourry, get back here now!"

Gourry didn't even hear her. Zel was striking at him again, and instinctively he blocked the blows that were mostly meant to disarm, stumbling back because he couldn't concentrate on holding his ground - - in fact, he didn't even care about that. The only thing occupying his stunned brain was that Zel was attacking him, and that even so, there was no viciousness in the blue-gray eyes, only pain. That sight alone was distracting him too much to allow a decent counter, and he ignored the nearby burst of cold and heat from spells canceling each other and caught the next swing to hold it in a lock so that he could ask "Why?"

"Rezo - " came the reply, gritted out between clenched teeth in a voice he barely recognized. Then his lack of attention allowed a slip, and he was thrown back to land jarringly on the ground. No follow up came, instead a wall of force came up between him and Zelgadiss, and Lina hauled him to his feet, shouting in his ear.

"Rezo has control of him! Remember when Rezo used whatever spells he wove into Zel's body to make him fight us in the tower? Zel's not himself right now, and you can't reason with him, Gourry! He'll just keep coming after you until Rezo gets what he wants or we take Rezo out. We don't have any choice, I don't want to hurt Zel. . . you have to keep him busy until I can give Rezo enough trouble to break his hold over Zel. . . a good knock might bring him out of it, too, but be careful!"

"But. . . Lina, no, he spoke to me. . . he's. . . "

"And whatever you do, don't let anyone get their hands on your sword!"

Before he could protest, she was gone, and Sylphiel and Amelia with her. A glowing red blade and the shadowy form wielding it had broken the barrier and were advancing on him. Reluctantly, he readied his own weapon.

Zel's feet carried him forward, and his eyes were locked on the focus of his master's efforts; he couldn't turn his head to see how Lina and the other girls were faring against the Red Priest. This was too much like the dream he'd suffered, and his throat was thick and tight with terror for Gourry and his friends - - but the rest of his body followed the orders it was given, unaffected by his clamoring instincts. He understood Rezo's gesture in arming him now. There was a spell on the sword, enchanting it to be the equal of the Sword of Light, which put him on more even footing with the master swordsman, and, he realized with a wave of hopelessness, forced Gourry to fight him seriously. He had dared to imagine a relatively easy defeat for himself, and an end to the danger for Gourry; but even knowing it was unlikely, this added difficulty made everything impossibly worse.

The look on Gourry's face, the confusion and distress, hurt far more than any wound, and for that reason alone Zelgadiss wished with all his being that the other man would harden his heart and strike Zel down. Instead, he had to settle for relief that at least Gourry was prepared to defend himself now, even though he obviously lacked enthusiasm for it.

"I'm sorry, Zel, I know this isn't you, it's not your fault," the warrior told him as they engaged again. "Lina's going to fix Rezo, and then everything will be okay, he won't be able to make you do this anymore." Zel wanted nothing more at that point than to squeeze his eyes shut against the tears of frustration that threatened, and to somehow get through to his friend, even while his sword flashed an increasingly deadly pattern of strikes around Gourry's half-hearted defense.

Gourry. . . no, it won't work. . . it's no use. . .

His vision seemed to dim, and a coldness passed through him. Physically, it had no effect, other than to trigger a slight push in his attack. He knew the cold fire of that astral touch, though. Shabranigdo. Closer than he'd ever been in Zel's waking life. Gods, no. . . ! The spell that was in use now, the one woven through his body binding and controlling him, had been created using Rezo's magic - - but it had been done according to Shabranigdo's plans. Its use, along with the despair and anguish growing steadily within Zelgadiss as all his efforts and struggles to break free of the dark destiny pronounced on him seemed to fail, were drawing the Dark Lord and giving him strength, eroding Zel's remaining defenses. Not now, please!

Another brush, more human this time, accompanied Rezo's voice in his mind. { Enough playing, Zelgadiss. I gave your knight a chance to make this easier on himself. I'll wait no longer. } He felt the will that was in command of his body change its tactics. Each sweep of his enchanted blade became a purposeful attempt by Rezo to penetrate Gourry's defenses and wound him. . . possibly kill him. The swordsman was harder pressed to turn away the blade each time, and Zel, his spell-wrought body not tiring, slipped a hit through to glance off the warrior's shoulder guard. A small cry of anguish flew from Zel's lips as his attack renewed its intensity and he felt that soul-chilling presence pressing at him again. Gourry was looking grim and very worried.

"Come on, Lina, " he muttered, as it seemed obvious he couldn't keep on simply defending himself for much longer. From what he could see, Lina and the others weren't getting anywhere; Rezo was secure inside some kind of shield, and intent on wielding Zel as his weapon. Nothing the sorceresses and shrine maiden were doing was even distracting him enough to make his control over Zel falter. It did distract Gourry, however, and it was nearly his undoing. Another of Zel's slices almost got through, and Gourry's belated, desperate counter to it sliced through ivory cloak and hard blue skin.

"What is it, what happened?" Amelia asked in a voice that quivered with excitement and a little fear.

"I don't know," Lina told her in automatic answer. Whatever it was, Rezo wasn't sparing even a thought to the three of them - - all his attention was on the other two combatants and their abruptly halted battle.

"Gourry-sama!" Syphiel shrieked, and began running toward him. After a split-second of hesitation, Lina ran after her. They weren't accomplishing anything against Rezo, and he was too distracted by whatever it was that had occurred to bother about attacking their backs. And that meant that this was serious.

As for Rezo, he had been taken completely be surprise, and his frustration was quickly becoming fury. He had felt a not-unfamiliar presence through the spell-link to Zelgadiss, and then, without warning, there was nothing. A light flashed through his inner vision, and then he was cut off from the chimera entirely.

At least those foolish girls had failed to take the one chance they actually had at inconveniencing him. He reached out again, skillfully reweaving, joining and twining old spell to new.

"Iiya. . ." Gourry gasped, horrified, as both swords clattered to the ground, the Sword of Light winking out. Crimson welled from Zel's shoulder and he fell to his knees, hands rising to clutch his head as he shook it weakly, the injury unnoticed or ignored. The magical struggle taking place on the other side of the clearing ceased as the combatants realized a serious shift had occurred. Gourry couldn't draw breath for a few labored beats of his heart. The wound wasn't deep, he knew that, but it didn't lesson his guilt or apprehension. Then Zel looked up at him and grasped Gourry's hand in both of his.

Zel clung to the hand of his friend, his last hope. It had taken him a moment or two to realize that the Sword of Light had driven back Shabranigdo from him for the present, and had temporarily severed his bonds to Rezo. He was free, for a few precious moments. The shock had sent him to the ground immediately, but he couldn't waste this chance. The wound wasn't serious, and at any minute Rezo might regain use of him; with the injury not serious enough to slow him down. . .

"Gourry. . ." he whispered.

He held Gourry's gaze desperately, and put one hand out, managing to reach the Sword of Light. Pushing it into Gourry's hand, he watched the light blaze out once again - - pure, beautiful, and deadly to a creature of the darkness. Like himself. This was the answer, the only way to escape the fate he'd been sentenced to, and the only way to save his friends, and the world itself, from falling victim to his failure. This was the perfect solution. He placed the blinding, piercing blaze of the blade over his heart, guiding Gourry's arm.

"Please, Gourry. . . " he entreated, "don't let him have the sword. . ." he squeezed the larger hand between his gently but urgently. "Shabranigdo. . . " he found he couldn't try to explain to the person he loved exactly what he was and what awaited them all if what he was asking wasn't done; there wasn't enough time, anyway. Instead, he looked into Gourry's wide, compassionate blue eyes and made his final plea.

"Don't let him have me. . . Gourry, please. . . "

He pulled the humming, pulsing light of the legendary demon-slaying blade closer, until he felt the pure, sheer power of it burn him, searing his skin and vibrating in time with the heart just beneath it.

Gourry Gabriev stood stunned and unsure, his hand trapped by his friend's grip, his eyes captured by the shaman's intensity, his thoughts whirling and thrown into chaos. The insistent pressure on his arm increased, and finally Zel's words and actions broke through, came together, and he realized what it was Zel was asking - - asking him to do. His mind went white for an instant, blank and useless; and when it returned, the light wavered, faded and disappeared. The hilt dropped from trembling fingers as he brought his free hand up to cover the ones wrapped around his now-empty fist.

"Zel. . . no. . . I can't. . . never. . . I don't care what happens. . . I. . . I don't want you to die. . . if you care about me at all. . . if you knew how much I. . . that. . . you. . . you have to live, Zel. . . "

In the corner of his vision the girls were still coming toward them, and then an unexpected blow threw Zel back and knocked the swordsman flat on the ground, tumbling with the force of the impact.

"So Rezo thought he could leave me behind, did he? Well, he's not getting that sword until you and I are finished, Gourry! I don't give a damn what that self-important pretender wants anymore. This is my fight now!"

Gourry blinked at the man who had just charged him, recognition delayed by shock. "Zangalus. . .!" he hissed, "You don't know what's going on - - get out of the way!"

But it was already too late. Even as he rolled to his feet and shoved the furious mercenary out of his way, Zel gave a short, hoarse cry as his body was wreathed in sparks. The recast spell ran through him instantly, crackling like electricity, and he jerked - - then began moving with a deadly liquid grace that belied any injury as he scooped up the Sword of Light from the ground beside him and was on his feet, then gone in a surge of supernatural speed, Gourry's reaching hand slipping from his arm almost before it could touch him. Amelia didn't even see him when he ran past, knocking her into Lina. The sorceress cursed loudly. She didn't need to hear Gourry shouting Zel's name to know what had happened. By the time she turned back to look at Rezo, Zelgadiss knelt before him, offering the Sword of Light.

Rezo took the sword from Zel's open hands, musing aloud.

"So the renegade mercenary has been helpful after all. My apologies for doubting you, Zangalus."

He rested his left hand on Zel's head, raising the sword hilt with his right in mock-salute.

"It seems," he said as his eyes trailed first to Lina, and then to Gourry, - - gold and indigo and beautiful if not for their cold emptiness - - "that I have succeeded on both counts, and you have lost. But as I am only interested in what was mine to begin with, you have my word that the Sword of Light will be returned to you. No hard feelings, I trust?"

Then he was simply gone, and Zel with him, leaving five people stunned and unmoving in the thickening forest twilight.

§ tbc §

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