Deep beneath Marrigan was an ancient network of catacombs that used to house the city’s dead, but hasn’t done so for many decades. Or so visitors to the city were told. Actually, the dead still lived in the catacombs of Marrigan and at night, they came to the surface world to play with the rest of the Marrigans and to feed off any strays they could find. Some of these dead were so old, they didn’t need to sleep during the day and could even tolerate sunlight for short periods of time. Other things lived in the catacombs. Things even the vampires avoided, things that almost never ventured topside. Almost never. The mortals who lived in the sunlight world knew better than to explore the catacombs, even during the day when the dead slept and it was assumed the "other things" did the same. Whether or not they did, no one knew, for those who had dared enter the catacombs, even by day, never returned to the surface to tell anyone what they’d found.
        Now, that isn’t to say those who live in the surface city don’t have strangeness about them, as well. Most things in Marrigan weren’t what they appeared to be, though enough things were that visitors still flocked to the city to see the actors and buy the artworks. Many of these visitors came and went none the wiser to Marrigan’s dark side. Others, now…others never left at all. It was that secret of Marrigan’s that Kopii exploited to dispose of Princess Amelia in his guise as Ruby the kind waitress, who just wanted to show Amelia a fun time. They watched a troupe of actors perform a romantic comedy, then bought some wine from a vending cart to enjoy on a bench by a fountain. It was easy for Kopii to lace Amelia’s wine with a sleeping spell. Any who saw them later, thought Amelia had drank too much and passed out, and her nice friend was helping her home. Kopii hauled Amelia through the streets of Marrigan, getting several propositions from prostitutes, evaluating stares from thieves and hungry looks from a knot of too-pale citizens. The latter fell in behind Kopii and his burden, just as he’d hoped they would. He continued down a narrow alley, avoiding filthy gutters and rabid-looking animals digging through trash heaps outside the back doors of businesses. His nostrils were assaulted with odors both foul and delightful: Rotten garbage and succulent roast pig, apple tobacco smoke from an upper story window and horse dung from the gutter below. Loud merriment told him he was passing the backsides of a row of taverns, restaurants and inns. He emerged from the alley and found himself on a steep rise. Below him was a storm sewer that was nearly dry, the trickle of water at its bottom flowing beneath an arch into darkness that held a chill he could feel from where he stood.
        A glance behind him. Good, they were still following but hanging back in the shadows of the alley to see what he planned to do. No Human in its right mind would go into the catacombs, which was where the sewer entrance led. Of course, Kopii was neither Human, nor in a "right mind" by anyone’s standard. He slid down the hill and landed in the little stream with a quiet splash, then made for the catacombs, shedding his disguise as soon as darkness covered him. Soft splashes from behind as the vampires followed him in. Kopii lay Amelia down just below a surface access that would have been too high for an ordinary man to reach without a ladder. One leap, and Kopii had hold of a ladder rung halfway up the access and was at the top and through the manhole before his pursuers caught up. He didn’t wait around to make sure they fed on the Princess; they’d looked to hungry not to. Anyway, he knew the ways of this city. Amelia was probably already dead.
        "What’s the hurry, Rezo?" Asked a smooth male voice behind him.
        Kopii nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun about, ready with a spell—then abruptly let it go with a sigh of relief. "Oh, it’s just you, Xellos! Good. I was just going to contact you. I’ve taken care of Amelia—"
        "I’m not Xellos, you moron!" The man who glared at him across the manhole snarled. He threw his cigarette down and ground it under and expensive-looking boot with an angry growl. "I thought you weren’t blind?"
        Kopii’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and he started grasping about for a means of escape. Now that he did take a closer look at the stranger, he realized it wasn’t the Trickster Priest, though whoever he was, he looked very much like him. The first different Kopii noticed was the hair: This man wore his long and pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, though it was as black and glossy as Xellos’. His eyes, like Xellos’, were a startling shade of blue and looked like their owner was laughing at something only he knew about. He was about Xellos’ height, too, and dressed with the sort of anal retentive impeccability Kopii expected from Xellos. But Xellos didn’t smoke. Furthermore, the Trickster was never without his staff. This man carried an elegant cane made of wood topped with a silver gargoyle whose emerald eyes sparkled at Kopii between the black-gloved fingers of the newcomer’s hand.
        "Who are you?" Kopii demanded, taking a careful step back as he started an attack spell.
        The man held up the hand not resting on the cane. "I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. My sister may not be good for much but there is one thing she does exceptionally well: Kill spells. She’s standing behind you."
        Kopii spun around with a start, but there was nothing behind him but the backs of another row of buildings. Then a blow to his head sent sparks through his vision; another blow and there was nothing but oblivion.
        "Idiot." Urlich wiped the blood from his cane on Kopii’s white shirt, waved the cane toward the buildings. From the shadows emerged another shadow that seemed to float from its hiding place to the middle of the alley where Urlich waited beside Kopii’s unconscious form. The shadow became a tall, voluptuous woman in a long, red dress than only just barely covered her curves and was held in place by sparkling silver chains hung with blood-red crystals. On one arm she wore a gold armband in the form of a snake with its fangs bared. On the other, a tattooed ring of thorns wove from shoulder to wrist. Her pale fingers were bare but sported long, opalescent fingernails.
        Her ruby lips parted to reveal a pair of needle-sharp fangs. "He smells yummy," she purred. Her bright green eyes that glittered in the moonlight were fixed on Urlich, however, not Kopii. "May I play with him, darling?"
        Urlich lightly kissed her lips as he ran the cold head of his cane down her bare back. She shivered with delight. "Later, perhaps. I’m afraid my sister wants him and the Princess—who knows why. Something to do with money, no doubt."
        "Such a mercenary," the vampire pouted. "Is money all she cares about?"
        Urlich kissed her again, this time with more interest. "Well, with all the charm and good taste having gone into me, the rest of the family got short shrift, didn’t they? Pity." He enjoyed a long, deep kiss, then asked: "And speaking of the Princess, what did you do with her, Jaz-darling?"
        The vampire smiled coyly and twirled a lock of hair around her finger, all the while never taking her piercing eyes from Urlich’s, just inches from her face.
        "I did as we agreed and gave her to Sylph, who took her to Zhara’s house, so she can get ransom money from that Lina Inverse bitch and her pet idiot savant."
        Urlich raised a well-groomed, jet black eyebrow. "How is Gourry Gabriev a ‘savant’, my dear? I thought he was just a mere ‘idiot’."
        She ran her finger down his chest, her fingernail clicking against the fine, pearl buttons of his pressed and starched black shirt. "I mean his skill with a sword, silly man! Didn’t your madman of a daddy tell you about that?"
        "Hmph!" Urlich grunted derisively at the mention of his father. Rather than discuss him, Urlich unscrewed the body from his cane and pulled it off, revealing the rapier that hid within. Moonlight danced off the blade as he grasped the gargoyle in his fists and straddled Kopii’s body to bring the sword over his heart.
        Jaz stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Oh, darling! You’re not going to waist all that delicious blood, are you? With me standing right here, too! Oh, you are cruel, Urlich!"
        Urlich grimaced, torn between irking the hell out of his father by killing his accomplice, and pleasing his woman of the moment by letting her feast on Kopii’s blood. Then he realized the latter would also accomplish the former and relented. He stepped away from Kopii’s body with a graceful motion for Jaz to proceed.
        "Forgive me, love. How horribly inconsiderate of me, after all you’ve done tonight to help me." Urlich smiled as warmly as he was capable of doing. "Please forgive me."
        The vampire paused just long enough to give him a quick peck on the cheek, then fell to the ground beside her prey, bared her teeth and dug in. Urlich watched her in almost erotic fascination, never tiring of seeing the eagerness with which she tore a throat and sucked a body dry of its lifeblood. Kopii never so much as twitched as Jaz took everything he had then fell back onto the pavement in a haze of ecstasy, blood dribbling from the side of her mouth and down her throat, which was no longer white but a glowing pink. Her brown hair spread around her head like a shadowy halo, some of it falling unnoticed into the filthy water running down the middle of the alley. She smiled at Urlich, holding out her arms to him in an invitation he never had been able to refuse, even when she wasn’t so sated. Her fangs could do his dragon-demon body no harm, no matter how much of his blood she drank. This time, though, it wasn’t his blood she wanted of him. He gave her what she wanted until near sunrise, when they had to part ways. A firespell disposed of Kopii’s already rotting corpse, then Urlich gathered up his clothes, gave Jaz one last kiss and disappeared.

        Midday sun shone through the windows of the bandit’s house, whose interior was a far cry from its broken down exterior and, in fact, appeared to be of much greater dimensions. Gourry looked around in wonder at the expensive, heavy, carved furniture with its silk and velvet cushions, marveled at the enormous crystal and gold chandelier that hung from the domed foyer ceiling, two stories over his head. Exotic carpets were strewn about the floor, handsome velvet curtains with gold fringe hung on every window, the glass of which was so clean Gourry had to look hard to make sure it was really there. Paintings of obvious quality hung on the walls of the sitting room to which Lina and Gourry were led. In a corner by a tall plant was a green marble sculpture of a mermaid combing her hair on a rock. Trinkets and vases and candles in elaborate holders adorned every flat surface, and were especially in evidence on the carved mantelpiece under which crackled a cheerful fire in an iron grate made to look like the rib cage of some giant creature. The bandit motioned for them to sit down in a matched set of high-backed chairs to one side of the fireplace. Once they had done so, she sat down in one of two leather armchairs across from them. She took an ivory-inlaid wooden box from a small, round table at her elbow and held it out to them, lifting the lid as she did to reveal a cache of cigarettes. With a wave of their hands, her guests politely declined, so she replaced the box, not taking a cigarette, either.
        "I don’t smoke, either, but you never know about your guests," she explained with a cool smile. "Now, let’s talk about Princess Amelia, hm? How much is her safe return worth to you?" As she spoke, a transformation occurred: Her dark hair became snowy-white and on her head appeared a pair of gracefully-curving horns. The horns were tipped with gold and chimed with dozens of gold, silver and jeweled spangles whenever she moved. Her hands, ears, arms and neck became almost crusted with gold and precious gems, and the chainmail that had appeared worn outside the house now shimmered with tiny crystals. Her coat took on a more expensive look, as did her tall, black boots.
        Lina jumped to her feet in a rage. "A trick! I should’ve known not to—"
        The bandit gave her a look of innocent offense. "What? I have to use illusion out there," she gestured to a window to indicate the world beyond her home, "or heaven knows how the local mortals might react! It’s self-defense, Lina, sit down. This is my true appearance. I thought you might have sensed the illusion spell, I guess I was wrong." She seemed rather smug about that, as if she’d scored some kind of hit on Lina.
        "I had other things on my mind," Lina snapped. She sat down again but refused to drop her guard. The truth was, she hadn’t sensed this woman’s illusion spell at all, not even a sniff. Oh, she was good. Lina resolved to stay on her toes until they got Amelia back safe and sound and were well away from this house and Marrigan. Although…she had felt the spell on the house. Maybe distraction was the reason she hadn’t felt the bandit’s spell on herself, after all.
        "So who are you, anyway?" Gourry asked suspiciously. His hand hadn’t left the hilt of his sword since they’d left the inn almost an hour ago. "And what are you? You’re definitely not Human."
        The bandit clapped her hands mockingly. "I can see you’re the brains in this operation," she sneered. "My name is Zhara. I’m part dragon, part demon, and no part Human. There. Now that we’re all introduced, let’s talk money, hm? Which of you will start the bidding for the life of Princess Amelia of Seyruun?"
        Lina’s eyes went wide. "Part dragon and part demon? But…dragons and demons hate each other!"
        Zhara shrugged. "Obviously one dragon and one demon didn’t hate each other for at least an hour or so." She pulled a pocket watch from within her coat and looked at its face meaningfully. "Time’s a-waistin’, my friends. The longer you stall, the farther Amelia falls from the world of the living."
        "What have you done to her?!" Gourry demanded, rising from his seat and half drawing his sword. "Where is she?!"
        Zhara rolled her eyes. "I’ve given her a safe place to recover from injuries she suffered as a result of Kopii Rezo’s plot to allow a few of the locals to kill her. I’ve also provided a healer to care for her…though, there’s not much even Sylph can do about so many vampire bites."
        "Vampire bites?!" Gourry and Lina cried in horror. Now Gourry’s sword came all the way out of its sheath and got shoved up under Zhara’s chin. "Take us to Amelia, now!"
        His threat was ignored. Zhara continued as if no outburst had occurred. "The person who could heal her is my brother, but he says rescuing her is all the favor he’s willing to do for me," she grinned wickedly, calmly ignoring the trickle of blood flowing down her neck and between her breasts. "Without a good reason, that is. A monetary reason. I ask you again: What’s she worth to you?"
        "Is she worth your life?" Gourry snarled, digging the point of his sword deeper into the leathery flesh of her throat. Her skin really did look dragonish, Gourry realized.
        "You can’t kill an immortal with a mundane sword, boy," she retorted, showing the beginnings of temper, "and you’d be hard pressed to do it with the Sword of Light, either. You’re wasting time!" Zhara swatted the sword away, leaving a long cut across her neck that would have killed a Human and a matching gash in the back of her hand. Both were ignored.
        Just then a ghostly figure pushed open a door neither Lina nor Gourry had noticed in the side of the fireplace and slipped out into the room, closing the door behind her. Her skin was as white as snow, and her long, thick hair fell in fiery curls down her back and about her bare shoulders. She wore a long, green dress of some gossamer fabric, slit all the way up her legs on either side and bound at her waist with an embroidered sash. The dress’ neckline plunged almost to her middle and was held together over her breasts by gold clasps in the shape of fish. Her feet were bare except for three gold rings on her toes and stacks of gold and silver bracelets around each ankle. But it was her eyes that made Gourry’s hand go limp and his sword drop to the floor and killed Lina’s outburst before it even got past her lips. The newcomer’s eyes dominated her small, heart-shaped face and were an unearthly shade of lavender with gold flecks ringing dark pupils. Fragile-looking hands with transparent skin rested on the dark leather back of Zhara’s chair, each finger bearing at least three delicate rings of gold set with tiny gems in every color of the rainbow. Bracelets and armlets wrapped her slim arms, and amulets and talismans hung about her neck. On her forehead shone a single white gem. When she smiled, the sunlight that poured through the windows seemed to pale and when she spoke her voice was like water in a brook.
        "Come now, friends," she said with a sly look, "isn’t Amelia’s life more important than your money?"
        Lina saw through the enchantment in an instant. With a swift blow to his skull, she snapped Gourry out of it as well. "Nice try, honey, but you’re not dealing with some amateur, here! Just drop the spell, sit down, shut up, and let us negotiate!"
        The woman cocked her head curiously. "’Spell’?"
        "I am in no mood for this!" Lina growled. She pointed an accusing finger at Zhara. "Tell her to knock it off, or I’ll tear this house apart to find Amelia, and you can just forget about money!"
        Unfazed, Zhara patted the chair beside her, and the woman slid into it like a silk scarf falling onto the floor. "This is Sylph, and she isn't using an enchantment. This is how she is. I don’t allow falsehoods in my home, Lina: Everyone, even I, must be just as they are. No illusions, no spells, no deceptions. If you find her hard to bear, don’t look into her eyes. That’s the key." She sighed, then, seeming to come to some monumental decision. "You can’t harm this house," she told Lina, staring distractedly at the molding just below the ceiling, which was quite possibly the least interesting part of its decor. "It can’t be done by the likes of you—meaning no slight to you talent, by the way. Your skill is renown." Her gaze met Lina’s with the suddenness of a stab in the belly. "I’m not that much of an exhibitionist."
        "Where is she?" Lina asked with forced calm. She’d had just about all she could take of this self-proclaimed dragon-demon and her weird house and weirder housemate. The sooner they could get Amelia and be on their way, the happier she’d be. Lina thought worriedly of Zelgadis, wondering how much lead time he would gain on them while they were delayed here. And what if Amelia really had been bitten by vampires, as Zhara claimed? "Damn!" Lina cursed to herself. If Amelia was the victim of vampires, it might not be safe to even let her live—continue, whatever it was vampires did. She’d be even more of a scourge on the world than she already was. And if she really was beyond cure…
        To Lina’s endless surprise, Zhara caved in. "She’s upstairs, asleep. Sylph was tending her until I brought you inside." She motioned to the waif beside her. "Sylph will take you to her now."
        Lina narrowed her eyes at the bandit woman suspiciously. "Wait a minute. Why are you giving in all of a sudden?"
        Zhara smirked. "Who’s giving in? You want reassurance that I do, in fact, have Amelia in my custody and that she is, in fact, in mortal danger of losing her life as a result of a vampire attack. Seeing is believing, I think you Humans say. Once you’ve seen her, we can talk business."
        Sylph had left her chair and opened the door beside the fireplace without Gourry or Lina seeing her. It was as if she’d transported herself there. She waited, eyes politely downcast, until her charges decided to trust her and followed her up the stairway beyond the door: Lina first with Gourry behind, guarding her back. As the door closed behind him, a chill settled in Gourry’s stomach. In front of him, Lina was feeling the same way.