Zel was on his feet in an instant. That scream--Amelia. That bastard had probably taken her to the deserted courtyard--of course he'd want to drag Zel's friends into this, to taunt him. He moved like a blur, racing down the corridors and out into the open as fast as his legs could carry him.

He was greeted by a sordid image--the mazoku had Amelia by her hair and was holding her forcefully against him, his free hand pressed into her neck.

"Xellos!"

He looked up, and his stolen blue eyes took on a cruel smile.

"Well, well. What have we here."

"Let go of her, Xellos." Zel shifted into an offensive stance. "This doesn't concern her."

"You're right." He held the princess for a moment longer, then let go of her, roughly. She fell to the ground face-first, gasping and sobbing; her panic tugged at his mind.

"That's an interesting look, by the way." Xellos chuckled, and Zel noticed for the first time the black-and-yellow outfit on his own form. His blood chilled... partially because it didn't look quite so unnatural as he would have imagined.

"Touch any of my friends again, and I'll rip your throat out," he growled.

"Is that a promise?"

"Don't push me."

Xellos's eyes narrowed, but he merely folded his arms and shifted his weight nonchalantly.

Zel took a single step forward; still keeping eye contact, he unbuckled his sword from his belt and threw it aside.

The mazoku smiled a little.

"Too easy," he remarked, and raised both hands.

"Elmekia Lance!"

The spell hit Xellos before either man could react; Zel felt a ripple of triumph somewhere nearby and turned to see Lina standing at the edge of the courtyard, with a very bruised Amelia in tow.

"Lina," he shouted, "are you crazy? Get out of here!"

"CATCH!"

A spike of apprehension stabbed into his mind; he raised a hand. The staff connected solidly with his open palm; as it hit, he could feel power surge into his arm.

The anchor, he thought.

"Freeze Arrow!"

There was a gust of icy wind across his back, then a stab of pain somewhere above his left shoulder. Dizziness engulfed his mind for a brief moment; when it passed, he was lying on the ground.

"Zel!"

He shut his eyes. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, not now, not this soon, he had to get up... he could feel his cloak clinging to his injured shoulder, slick and chilly with blood...

Something slammed into his side. He cried out.

"So it's over this easily," he heard his own voice murmuring as he curled up in pain. "And after you put this much effort into it, too."

"Flare..."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Lina." He could hear the smirk in the mazoku's voice. "Zelgadis here is too young to be charbroiled."

Zel sensed a wave of helpless rage and hatred.

"Now... you didn't really think I was going to let you run around as me for long, did you? I just wanted to make sure I'd find this body suitable before disposing of the old one. For good." He kicked Zel again, savagely; this time he tasted blood and groaned. "I'm just disappointed that your mind isn't stronger."

The mazoku's voice was rising to a dangerously high pitch.

"I thought you were this determined ball of energy, and here you can't even muster the strength to get up. Where's that warrior spirit, huh, Zel? Where's the fire? Why don't you get up and defend your girlfriend here? Get up! Get up and hit me, I'd like to see you try! Go ahead and hit me!"

Zel opened one eye. The staff was just behind Xellos's ankle... his fingers were still painfully tight around the heavy stick; the spell's power was still tingling in his arm...

"You want it, you got it," he whispered, and, summoning up a burst of strength, hooked the staff around the mazoku's leg.

He heard a cry of surprise; then the world inverted. Time and space fell away, swirled past him like a strong wind. Everything was black--or was it white--he was falling out across an endless stretch, coursing through a dark-walled tunnel...

One moment of weakness... just one... that's all.

...he was reaching for something, anything at all to take hold of... a shoulder, an ankle, anything...

His astral sense connected with something, just as the not-space around him distorted and collapsed. He closed his mind around it and pulled.



Darkness, silence. He could distantly feel the steady thump of his own heartbeat.

Xellos--reduced to a small, bitter, bleeding reflection--was glaring up at him.

//I get it,// he said bitterly. //You're going to beat my head in.//

//No.//

//Look, I'm down, all right? You won. You have me cornered. You got the girl. Now finish it.//

//I intend to,// Zel said.

He reached out and focused his mind. Soon the spell was flowing into his mind, flowing through him like cold flame...

Distantly, he heard Xellos cry out in pain and surprise. He could feel the human flesh and blood dissolving, becoming one with the mazoku power it had locked away.

//What the--//

Zelgadis concentrated, and then took hold of Xellos's mind, reached in deep. Pain, fear, rage, confusion all raced through the trickster priest--as Zel went deeper he could sense gaping wounds in Xellos's soul, wounds collected over a thousand years; at the very centre of these was a blood-red lance of jealous humiliation, running him through.

Zel grasped it; a wave of pain raced across his mind like a scream.

//Finish it, damn you,// he felt Xellos cry. //Finish it!!//

He hesitated for a moment, tightened his grip.

And then he pulled it out.

//Forget, Xellos,// he commanded. //Forget everything that has happened. Forget why you did this. Forget your jealousy. Know only that I have saved your life.//

There was a surge of anger, and then the mazoku's mind bent. The command took hold, and with something like a sigh Xellos pushed Zel out of his mind and out of consciousness.





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