Sylph was doing complex mathematical calculations. Zel would have been ok with that, except she insisted upon doing them out loud--under her breath in a voice only his and her extremely sensitive ears could hear, but out loud none the less. It was really starting to get on his nerves.
        "Sylph, what in the hell are you doing?!" He hissed.
        The kitsune gave him a withering look. "Math, ditz, what does it sound like?"
        Zelgadis clenched and unclenched his fists until he’d cooled off enough to respond without killing her at the same time. "Why?"
        "It’s how I construct my spells," she snapped back, "now shut up and let me work."
        "What kind of spell?"
        Pause.
        Sylph’s face went blank, then colored with frustration. "Great. Now I’ve lost my place, you jerk!" A growl rumbling in her chest, she explained: "I’m building a camouflage spell—or, I was building one, now I have to start over, thank you very much!"
        "Sorry." Zel snorted and seated himself on the tunnel floor at her feet to wait.
        She sighed. "What are you doing?"
        "Just getting comfortable," Zel chirped back tightly. "Don’t mind me."
        "Prick."
        "Language…"

       Ten minutes later, Sylph finished her calculations with a triumphant proof of the dimensions of a previously unknown polygon and the coordinates of two points somewhere between where they were standing and a small planet on the other side of the galaxy, inhabited by highly-evolved roaches.
        Zelgadis frowned as he examined the fruits of her labors. "I’m a golem," he observed flatly.
        Sylph beamed. "Ah! But you’re a golem with no magical signature! That’s how they track their prey: By it’s magical signature."
        That made sense, and it wasn’t like he was really a golem, just himself made to look and "feel" like a golem to the deadly creatures living in the cavern. He squinted up at Sylph: Her furry ears and fluffy tail were gone, and her eyes no longer looked lupine. Zel closed his eyes and tried to find her, magically, and wasn’t at all surprised to discover he couldn’t sense her. "So, you’re just an ordinary Human, right?"
        Mocking applause met his deduction. "Very good! Don’t let anybody tell you you’re as dumb as you look, Zelly."
        Zelgadis trembled with the barely-suppressed desire to kill her and take the long way to Marrigan all by himself but mastered it with a supreme effort of will. "Don’t call me ‘Zelly’."
        She stuck her tongue out at him and giggled, intoxicated by the spell she’d just woven. For Sylph, magic was better than sex, better than booze, better than anything she could smoke or shoot or rub into her skin. With her numbers, she tweaked and twisted the dancing particles of matter and the shimmering strands of the ethereal, bending them to her will, changing the universe around her. Everything was numbers, there was nothing that couldn’t be calculated or described with a formula. Even things others believed didn’t or couldn’t exist, Sylph could bring to life with calculations, form them, dissolve them, shape them into new forms. For the purpose of their journey through the cavern, she was really a Human and Zelgadis was really a golem—but it was better that he not know that. He was on the verge of killing her already. Knowing she’d restructured his very being would likely send him straight over the edge.
        "Time to go!" She declared, grabbing him by the hood of his tunic and pulling him to his feet like a sack of potatoes. She then proceeded to pat the dust off his butt, ignoring his angry threats and defeating his attempts to evade her hand.
        "You are the most vulgar person I have ever met," Zelgadis growled when she finally stopped dusting his bum. "Don’t touch me again."
        "You’re welcome!" Sylph giggled and swatted his ass again.
        Zelgadis yipped and spun about to put his butt out of reach. "I said ‘don’t touch me’, you stupid bitch!"
        She clicked her tongue at him and shook a finger in his face. "Now, now…language! And I’m a vixen, not a bitch. Try to get the terminology straight, boulder brains."
        Boulder brains?! Zelgadis seethed. Sylph stuck her tongue out at him again. "Keep that in your mouth," he threatened, "or I’ll cut it off!"
        Unfazed, Sylph did it again. "Whatever!" She giggled and started off into the cavern at a fast walk. "Let’s roll, Rocky!"
        Zelgadis hesitated briefly, then reluctantly followed her. "You are one dead furball."

        "Tag, you’re it."
        Amelia’s heart skipped and she looked up with a start at the tall, glamorous vampire woman who’d seemingly appeared out of nowhere to smirk down at her in her dark, dusty hiding place in Zhara’s basement. The princess considered trying to bolt, but the other vamp had her trapped. In a moment, an elegant man moved from the shadows to lean on his dragon-headed cane beside the vampire woman. His face showed signs of a recent, hurried healing, white scars shining against his olive skin. The man himself looked a little ragged around the edges, which told Amelia that whatever fight he’d been in had been within the last day or so.
        "Princess Amelia of Seyruun," the man said with a courtly inclination of his head. "My name is Urlich. This is Jaz, whose acquaintance I believe you’ve already made."
        Jaz languidly draped herself against Urlich’s shoulder. "We weren’t properly introduced," she whispered and tongued his earlobe.
        Urlich maintained admirable cool. "Ah." he nodded sagely. "Now you are."
        "Charmed," said Jaz in her silky voice.
        Amelia barely remembered her manners: "Delighted." She gulped, frantic eyes still looking for a way out. If she didn’t get away from these two, she’d miss her opportunity to surprise Zelgadis as he came through the portal and all of her plans would be ruined!
        Urlich smiled warmly, but his eyes were ice-cold steel. "I must ask you to come with us, Princess. You’re not well, you see, and your friends are very worried about you."
        Jaz raised a delicate eyebrow at Urlich’s suggestion that vampirism was some kind of illness but said nothing. She could always punish him for it later.
        Amelia stood up and brushed herself off with all the regal dignity that her upbringing afforded her, then regarded Urlich and Jaz in turn. "Though I appreciate your concern for my health, I assure you I’m quite well, and you may tell my friends as much."
        Urlich’s expression hardened. "Nevertheless, Your Highness, I insist you come with me."
        "No."
        Jaz detached herself from Urlich, giving them both room to maneuver should Amelia decide to make a run for it. Urlich took his weight off of his cane and loosened the hidden rapier in its secret scabbard. "Then we will take you by force," he announced grimly. "Apologies, Princess."
        Amelia faked toward Urlich, then tried to dive between the two of them. Urlich stopped her with a boot on her back. She struggled, but he was stronger than he looked and much heavier. "Let me go!"
        Urlich frowned. "No. Jaz?"
        "Nighty-night," Jaz whispered sweetly and punctured Amelia’s throat with her index fingernail. Amelia went limp.
        "That was easy," Urlich commented as he reached down, scooped up the princess and tossed her over his shoulder. He nodded to Jaz to precede him: "Shall we?"
        She returned his nod and had started to lead the way out of the basement when Urlich let out a bone-shattering curse, which was immediately followed by the sound of a loud crash. "Url!" Jaz spun about to find her partner face-down on the floor condemning Amelia to every unpleasant demise he could think of. A small blood stain was spreading rapidly on his left shoulder blade.
        Something moved incredibly fast from behind a sheet-draped chair and tried to make off with Urlich. Jaz’s hand shot out on reflex and caught a fistful of Amelia’s dark hair. With an angry yelp, the princess dropped her prize and clawed at Jaz’s hand with both of her own, all the while screeching in decibels only a dog (or another vampire) could hear. Jaz got her free arm around Amelia’s middle and hugged the struggling vamp to her side. "Url!" She grunted, fighting to keep her grip against Amelia’s gyrations. "Url, help me!"
        Url was already crawling to his feet with the aid of his cane, his face twisted with pain. "Fucking bitch bit me!" He growled through clenched teeth. "Great drugs, Jaz…must use 'em more often!"
        Jaz ignored that. Urlich was enough of a jerk when he was in the bloom of health and sobriety; injured, he was the supreme bastard, and anything Jaz might have to say would only make things worse. "A little help here, please, lover? SHIT!"
        Amelia broke free with a triumphant squeal and in a blur of white was gone into the junk collection that was Zhara’s basement. Jaz blurred after her, the princess being easier to track now that she had Urlich’s scent all over her clothes.
        "Zhara! Seal the basement!" Urlich roared and was only a little comforted to feel his sister’s wards immediately clamp down on all exits. Amelia might be loose but she was only loose in the basement. The bad news was: Zhara’s basement was huge and filled to the rafters with clutter. Urlich drew his sword, took a deep, painful breath and waded into the mess.

        Even if Sylph hadn’t primed him to expect danger, Zelgadis didn’t like this cavern at all. The darkness was palpable, while at the same time giving him the feeling that he was passing through an infinite void. Sylph had forbidden him to make a light, even a little one, so he wouldn’t have to walk so close to her. "They’ll see it," she’d explained, but Zelgadis was sure she was just doing it to piss him off some more. He followed her by the sounds her dress made as she walked and her delicate, barely-discernible, woodsy scent, which contrasted with the damp smell of the cavern. The feeling that things were moving in the dark around them was about to drive him crazy. Sylph insisted it was his imagination and not at all an unusual phenomenon. "There’s nothing there," she’d assured him, her voice a warm tickle in his ear that had made him jump. They were stuck in this abyss for a hole hour, if nothing noticed them. Sylph had seemed pretty confident that they could make it through without any problems, but Zel knew his karma too well to share her optimism: If something really dreadful was going to happen to anybody, it would happen to him, and, by association, anyone stupid enough to be in his company.
        Whatever Sylph said, Zelgadis was sure he heard things moving around in the dark, so he kept his guard up and all senses scanning their vicinity. "There’s something there," he whispered to Sylph, catching her arm to be sure she heard him and cursing the fear he heard in his own voice. "I can hear things moving around out there!"
        Sylph jerked her arm out of his grasp. "I told you, it’s your imagination! Just ignore it and keep moving, you big sissy!"
        Zelgadis grabbed her arm again. "What did you call me?!"
        Again, she pulled it free. "Will you dummy up?!"
        "Why can’t you just admit I’m right?" Zel demanded, hissing right into her ear as she’d done to him. "We’re being followed!"
        Sylph whispered back icily: "So what? As long as your imaginary friends don’t attack us, they can follow us to the other side of    the world for all I care! Now shut up and walk!"
        "Dog breath."
        "Pebble brain."
        Both travelers balled their fists and ground their teeth and stalked determinedly onward, wishing upon each other the most gruesome demises possible.
        "I could throw him in the dragon pit," Sylph mused.
        While Zelgadis thought: "I’d give her to the soul-eating larva if she had a soul."
        "Death is too good for him."
        "Death is too good for her."
        Meanwhile, in the dark, a gelatinous mass oozed out of the hole in which it lived and slimed toward the delightful fragrance of the two souls not far ahead.
        Zelgadis and Sylph paused in their walking and their violent thoughts. "Did you just hear something?" Sylph asked suspiciously.
        "I’ve been hearing some—" Zelgadis snapped, but she cut him off.
        "Not that! A squishing sound," she hissed back at him.
        Zel listened but didn’t hear anything like that. "’Squishing’?"
        Sylph nodded, though he couldn’t see it in the dark, and slipped her hand into his. "I think we should run now…"
        Then Zel heard it, too and had no trouble identifying the source of the sickening sound. "Yes, I think you’re right."
        They ran, hand in hand, as fast as they could away from the sloshing larva, which hadn’t a prayer of catching up to them—as long  as they kept moving. "Are you sure we can’t use a light?" Zel called to his companion. "What if we trip over a rock, or something? I can’t see a damn thing in here!"
        "No lights!" She called back. "Zhara and I keep the path clear with spells, so stop wor—YIP!" Sylph’s foot caught on something soft and she went down, still holding onto Zelgadis’ hand and dragging him into a summersault with her. "Oh, shit!" They tumbled over and over for several feet and came to rest with Zel on top of Sylph.
        He rolled off of her into a crouch, drawing his sword in the same motion. Sylph crouched next to him with an angry, animal growl. "Ok, now we make a light," she barked, matching actions to words. A small, glowing yellow ball rose serenely from her palm, turning night to twilight for at least ten feet all around them, revealing the thing that had tripped Sylph: A partially decomposed troll arm that was none too flattered by the orb’s yellowish light. "Oh, gross."
        "Now who’s a wuss?" Zel muttered in a relieved voice and put up his sword. "Just be glad it’s not attached to anything."
        The light was abruptly quenched, which made no sense to him at all. He was about to share his opinion with his companion, when shuffling sounds from all around him killed the words on his lips. "Sylph!" He swung his arms around, trying to find the fox spirit. "Where the hell are you?"
        "Here!" At last, his hand connected with hers, and she squeezed tight enough to hurt. "Why the hell’d you snuff the light?!" She demanded furiously.
        "Me snuff it?!" Zel snapped back. "I thought that was you!" He drew his sword again, trying to gage how long it would take whatever was making the shuffling noises to reach them. "Make another light!"
        After a pause, Sylph’s frightened voice confessed: "I can’t! You try!"
        He did and met with failure, as well. "Can’t. Something’s blocking me, maybe our new friends out there. Any idea what they might be?"
        "I do," Sylph pulled him around until they were standing back to back. Zel heard the soft, deadly sound of a blade hissing through leather as she drew a knife he hadn’t noticed she had. "But I hope I’m wrong," she finished.
        Zelgadis’ stomach tightened. "Not those revenants…"
        "Just remember not to cut them," Sylph said. From the tone of her voice, he could tell she was calming herself for battle, just as he was doing. "Run as soon as you get a break, whether I’m with you or not. Just run like hell for the other side and don’t stop for anything, even me. Once you’re in Zhara’s tunnel, you’ll be safe."
        Zel nodded. "Same to you."
        The sharpness of her reply startled him: "No! You’re the goods, Rocky. If I don’t bring you in, I don’t get paid, and Zhara’ll have my furry hide for a wall hanging!"
        "You rescued me for MONEY?!"
        Sylph ignored his indignation and focused instead on the approaching enemy. "I’ve never heard of true revenants being able to block magic," she thought aloud. "If they’re not the revenants, they’re something I’ve never encountered before. How ‘bout you? Does any of this seem familiar?"
        He reviewed every enemy he’d ever faced or heard of, from trolls to Dark Lords, but couldn’t think of a foe that had been able to cut off magical ability without making physical contact or using a talisman. "Maybe it’s a property of the cavern," Zel suggested.
        "Then how was I able to make a light before?"
        So much for that theory. "Point."
        Soon, the stench of decomposing flesh reached them, chasing all doubts from their mind that the approaching enemy was revenants of some kind, true or otherwise. Nothing else smelled like that and was mobile.
        "Just find your opening and run," Sylph reminded him, "I’ll do the same. You’re not cute enough to die for."
        "Likewise."
        "Asshole."
        "Harpy."
        "See you in the next life, Zelly."
        Zelgadis snorted his opinion of that. "I told you: ‘Don’t call me Zelly’."