They set off in the direction of the town.

Danandra and Leni never used to work for Lemuel - Cally had, but for reasons she didn't specify, had decided not to anymore. Lemuel wasn't having that. McKenzie could well believe it: he'd tried to do something similar, and up until now thought he'd succeeded.

Lemuel had an unshakeable determination to do the right thing. It was childlike, in a way. He saw no grey areas: there were many wrong things to do, and only one right thing to do, and Lemuel had long since come to the conclusion that he and only he knew what it was. Anyone who thought otherwise was sadly deluded and in need of either being put back on the One True Path or, failing that, being buried under it and paved over.

Over the years, in furtherance of his selfless aims, Lemuel had collected people around him who could do things other people couldn't. At one point he'd collected McKenzie. Right from the get-go, it hadn't been what you'd call a model working relationship, and after a number of years and various fallings out, McKenzie had decided he'd had enough of Lemuel and all his shit. He'd left, tried to go freelance, failed, learnt - or re-learnt - a few lessons regarding the pitfalls inherent in altruism, and decided that he might aswell just enjoy himself. He'd been in the middle of getting together a nice wadge of cash with which to pursue this goal, but now it looked like Lemuel had collected him again.

"Fine, so you work for the Big L. Used to myself, he never mentioned you, but you know what he's like with secrets. What's with this curse and what has it got to do with me?" McKenzie asked.

"All three of us have done things in our past that we shouldn't have done. Evil things," Cally started.

"I wouldn't base any arguments off of Lem's idea of 'evil', since for him it pretty much equates to 'anything he doesn't think you should be doing'," McKenzie interjected.

"I know!" Leni exclaimed. "You would not believe the normal, do-it-every-week-or-so stuff that I'm not allowed to do! I mean, something as normal as ea-"

"Not now, Leni, please," Cally said. "Let's deal with one thing at a time."

Leni huffed and fell silent.

"To return us to the path of light, and to ensure we stayed on it-" Cally continued.

"This sounds just like his usual turn of phrase," McKenzie commented.

"-he has put us under a curse. We must do the right thing, we cannot hurt innocents, and neither can we hurt each other," Cally said. "The curse will allow nothing else."

"Wow - the ultimate in community service. Where I'm from you just get ankle-tagged. Here, you get the Three Laws of Lemuel rammed down your throat. One question: it seems kinda obvious that this is the sort of place where crazy shit like zombies and curses and magic sparky shit actually works, but why not just go someplace it doesn't? I will bet you any money that it just isn't so much of a problem in London or New York," McKenzie said.

"I have not heard of these places," Cally said. "You speak of your homeland?"

"Yeah. I do." A nasty suspicion began to dawn on McKenzie. He dug in a pocket and got out his phone. It had survived the festivities: McKenzie had noticed that anything he wore or carried about his person tended to inherit his robustness. No signal - not a surprise really. He flicked on the GPS. No position. Hmm.

"Any of you heard of America, even? C'mon - you must've heard of America. They put a man on the moon, ferchrissakes," McKenzie said.

"Really?" Danandra perked up. "Which moon?"

Well that confirmed that. McKenzie stared straight ahead. "I'm gonna kill Lemuel," he said.

- o O o -

There was a wooden palisade around the town - gaining entrance was a simple matter of holding up Mahrak's shrivelled and singed head for all to see. The gates flew open and a spontaneous street party erupted into being.

"Popular guy, then," McKenzie commented.

"I beg your pardon?" Cally shouted over the noise of the crowd.

"I SAID, 'HE WAS A POPULAR GUY, THEN'!" McKenzie shouted back.

"No, they hated him!"

"I'd've never guessed," McKenzie replied, basically to himself.

They were - literally, with the exception of Leni - carried through the town. Cally, Danandra and McKenzie were lifted by the cheering, singing throng and paraded through the streets. Leni followed behind, urged to hold up the head by the townspeople (who were willing to put aside their fear of trolls, at least for the one that was carrying their ex-tyrant's head on a knife).

They looked a bit Tibetan, McKenzie thought. He'd visited the place - on business, a few years ago - and remembered that the people there looked and dressed a bit like this, although there was probably more fur involved in the clothes here than there had been in Lhasa. Their tight-packed wooden houses were ornately carved and brightly painted, and the entire town reeked of woodsmoke and incense.

The crowd deposited them before the gates of the castle - which were already off their hinges. People were rushing out with gold candlesticks, fur rugs, tapestries, and - now some planning time had been afforded - rushing back in with sacks and handcarts.

"Enterprising folks hereabouts," McKenzie said. "Mahrak's not even cold yet."

"We need to get in there soon, before the entire place is ransacked," Cally said. "Lord Lemuel said that-"

"They will not dare go where we must, " Danandra said, "but nevertheless we must hurry."

The head honcho of the town - a wizened old man with one eye - stumped up to the girls (and McKenzie), made a speech in the local lingo which was rapturously received by the gathered crowd, and then embraced each in turn, even Leni. He clapped his hands - serving girls appeared with baskets of food, jugs of drink and tables, some musicians started playing some truly unpleasant music, the serving girls removed a few strategic layers of clothing and became dancing girls, and before you knew it, there was an official celebration underway. The girls were not wearing one whole hell of a lot, McKenzie could not help but notice.

Cally was talking to the town elder in his own language, explaining, if her frequent gestures to the castle gates were indicative, that they needed to go in. Someone hugged McKenzie and shoved a clay goblet full of something foamy into his hand. He said thank you and sipped it: it was utterly foul and very alcoholic. McKenzie, who'd had about enough of being sober for today, drank it anyway.

There was a loud clang and a whoop from Leni: she had shucked her armour and had joined the dancing girls, twirling around on the flagstones. They scattered with surprised yells - there was a smattering of laughter - but just a few moments later two of the girls had overcome their fear and were dancing with Leni with every indication they did it every day.

"They can often persuade those who are weaker-willed or less blessed in the matter of intelligence than the average person that they're...normal - at least for as long as they need," Danandra said, by way of unhelpful explanation of McKenzie didn't know what. "I don't think they even know they do it. They just seem to take it utterly for granted."

"Alright then," he said, not knowing what else to say. "Should we do something?" It was a handy question when you didn't have a clue what was going on.

"If anyone is in any danger from her, they deserve to be," Danandra said, then sighed. "We need you to come inside. There may be some call for strength, and it'll take the full force of the curse to tear Leni away from her...distractions."

"Is sayin' no an option?" McKenzie asked.

"Probably not. Feel free to try, I'm not that desperate for your company," Danandra told him.

McKenzie ignored that. "Ah, bollocks to it. S'not every day you get to explore a wizard's castle," he shrugged.

"Bring the head," Danandra said.

McKenzie put down his empty goblet and picked up Mahrak's head from the table - despite it's evident deadness, none of the townsfolk could quite bring themselves to touch it yet.

Cally had finished her explanations - McKenzie followed her and Danandra into the castle, joining the inward traffic of looters.

The lower floor was already stripped to pretty much bare stone, with the notable exception of some leather-covered benches and chairs. Anything else that remained was what could not easily be prised off the walls, which included:

"Heads up!" McKenzie said.

Cally and Danandra looked around alertly, and then looked at him disapprovingly. "That's in very poor taste," Cally said.

"Sorry," McKenzie apologised.

There were, indeed, heads up. Dozens of human heads had been carefully stuffed and mounted on the walls, with explanatory plaques underneath: "Mimgar Divolos, would-be assassin, skinned spring of 1253".

"Ask yourself why no-one wants the furniture," Danandra said.

McKenzie peered at one of the benches, It was very well made - of human skin. Another plaque gave details of the previous owners and what they'd done to incur Mahrak's displeasure.

"I don't normally say this, but damn am I glad you're dead," McKenzie told Mahrak's head.

"Yes - we're rather relieved too," Danandra commented.

Cally withdrew a map from within her robes, consulted it, and then led them up a spiral staircase to the second floor. From there they picked their way along a gallery, up another staircase, and finally to a thick set of brass-bound wooden doors. The number and good spirits of looters diminished as they went, and McKenzie could guess why. They were an ordinary set of doors, but they exuded evil: it radiated out from them in cold waves.

"We're for in there, I take it?" McKenzie asked.

Danandra swallowed and nodded. "Mahrak's private chambers. We don't know how to get in."

McKenzie shrugged and kicked the right hand door. It shuddered and the sounds of splintering could be heard, but it held.

"Subtle," Danandra remarked.

"I don't do subtle," McKenzie replied automatically. "This might take a minute or two to kick down."

"Time is of the essence," Danandra said.

"You want I should try something else?" McKenzie replied. He held up Mahrak's head and jiggled it around. "Hi, I'm home! Open up!"

"Will you please stop the decapitated head humour?" Callena asked in a pained tone.

"People are always sayin' that to me," McKenzie said, but then the door clicked. "Well I'll be fucked: it worked."

The explanation proved to be entirely non-supernatural, though. One of the doors opened a crack, and a very frightened looking girl peeked around it. She asked a question in the local language, and McKenzie could have sworn he heard the words 'really dead?' in there somewhere. Callena replied, and indicated Mahrak's head. The girl broke down in tears of relief.

She wasn't alone inside - there were three or four others. Serving staff, McKenzie was relieved to discover, and nothing nastier. Cally spoke to them for a few moments and then sent them on their way.

"They don't think there's anything else inside, " Cally reported. "but since they were never permitted to the top level, we should be on our guard and approach stealthi-"

McKenzie shoved the doors open with a loud creaking noise and the squeak of a hinge: there was a spiral staircase inside. "Hello! Anyone in?" He shouted, then noticed the looks he was getting. "What?"

"You just volunteered to go first," Danandra told him.

McKenzie shrugged and walked smartly up the steps. They curled around and up, like spiral staircases do, and deposited him into a roomful of horrors. McKenzie retched and gagged.

"What have you found?" Callena asked.

"Furniture workshop!" McKenzie replied.

The room had three windows, looking out over the town. McKenzie pushed them all open, which might hopefully do something about the smell. The noise of revelry outside drifted in. The only exit was an open staircase in the far corner.

He went up a lot less enthusiastically than last time - he was still only halfway up when he heard Callena's exclamation, followed by the sound of her losing her lunch.

"What's on the next level?" Danandra called up. Apparently she had a stronger stomach, or at the very least being liberally coated in troll-gunk had inured her to any lesser smells.

The next level was a library, packed with books and scrolls, and reassuringly normal - unless you looked too closely at what the books were covered in. After that came more stairs and Mahrak's personal quarters - spartan and functional. The last set of stairs led to the top of the tower. It appeared to be a magical laboratory - there were more books, benches covered in jars best left unexamined, odd little bits of unpleasant looking equipment, and a pervasive chemical smell. McKenzie once again opened the windows, but it didn't seem to help this time.

"Last room," McKenzie called down. "It's a lab or summat."

The women arrived - if Callena could have actually looked any paler, she would have. Danandra seemed unflustered - in fact she was unconcernedly carrying an armful of books and scrolls, and immediately started eyeing up some of the jars and devices.

McKenzie leaned against a bench next to something tall and flat with a sheet draped over it, and was somewhat surprised when his phone chirruped.

"That's odd," he said.

"Yes, is there a bird in here?" Callena asked.

"No." He drew out the phone. Two new messages, the first from his current (well, ex, now) employers: Nice disappearing act. Assuming evidence is in right hands. Money in your account when story hits the media.

The second was presumably from Christine, as it was in her usual texting style even if she'd forgotten to type in her name: i dont know if this is even still ur number but where hav u gone r u OK? lem says he dosent know what hapened plz call back.

"Oh he doesn't, does he?" McKenzie murmured. There was, for whatever unfathomable reason, a bit of signal here, although GPS was still out. He called up the browser and did a search: restaurants near me. The phone was smart enough to derive a pretty accurate location even if the GPS was off. Restaurants near W1, London.

"Interesting. Hey, you two - smile." He took a picture of the girls, with the lab behind them.

"What's that?" Callena asked, blinking at the flash.

"Look." He held up the screen.

There was predictable amazement from Cally even if Danandra seemed non-plussed (her hair was still a bit damp). McKenzie took a few more, including a selfie with the girls behind him, and attached them to a message to Christine that she would either disbelieve or be scared witless by, sent another one to his clients telling them what he'd done with the dirt they'd wished to be dished, and that contrary to appearances he was around and would know about it if he wasn't paid. The phone warned of a low battery. McKenzie thought for a moment, came to a decision, and concentrated briefly. He felt a tingling in his fingers, and smirked with smug satisfaction as the battery meter blipped back to full. Neat trick.

He wandered over to the windows, and got a further surprise.

"Should've realised when I didn't hear the street party outside," McKenzie said to the women. "Have a shufty."

Callena gasped when she saw - Danandra raised an eyebrow.

It wasn't West London, unless West London these days was a formless, unhealthy pink misty void. Occasional shadows in the mists and faint roars and screeches hinted that you really didn't want to pop out for a bit.

"The Nowhere," Danandra said. "The Land between Lands. The mages of old would journey in it at will, visiting different worlds. Now, though, there is great and terrible danger there. Those roads are closed."

"Pity about the colour scheme," McKenzie commented. "Anyway, why are we here again?"

"The Lord Lemuel wishes us to find a powerful magical artifact that Mahrak was rumoured to have in his possession. A portal of great and ancient power - with it, a person might speak to another over any distance, or even, it is said, across the vast expanses of time and-."

"Portal, yep, got it. Under the sheet," McKenzie said.

"How do you-?"

"Sheet. Trust me."

Callena pulled the sheet off the tall object, which was revealed to be a mirror in an ornately wrought golden frame.

"Hey look, it's the fairest of them all," McKenzie said as Callena scrutinised her reflection.

"You flatter me," she replied.

"My old friend is not given to flattery, my dear: he alludes - unconsciously - to an ancient tale from his native world, inspired in part by the very object we speak through. His observation, however, is no great degree beyond the truth, even if your mission has evidently taken it's toll. Congratulations, Lady Callena - you have succeeded where many have failed."

The mirror wavered, and Cally's image was replaced by Lemuel's hawklike, ageless features. He was wearing a white suit - like he usually did.

McKenzie glanced at his phone and touched the screen briefly.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"My thanks, Lord Lemuel." Cally inclined her head.

"'Scuse." McKenzie nudged her aside. "What the actual fuck do you think you're playing at?" He addressed Lemuel flatly, the massive knife with Mahrak's head resting on his shoulder. He kept his other hand behind his back.

"McKenzie. I am glad to see you survived the journey. Looking well, in fact. I see you've met Mahrak." Lemuel's gaze wandered to the head.

"Yeah - he electrocuted me, froze me, burned me and then hit me with a magic stick a number of times. I'm so glad you introduced us," McKenzie said sarcastically.

Lemuel ignored this, and sighed. "Many were the times that I stood in front of this very mirror and contended with the Lord Mahrak, trying to persuade him from his evil course. Alas, I have failed." He looked up. "I do not intend to fail with you, my old friend."

"I see. So I've been zapped from one end of the galaxy to the other for my own self-improvement, have I?" McKenzie asked.

"You're a loose cannon, McKenzie. I couldn't have you rolling around the deck on Earth, endangering the crew and vessel."

"So I've been put over the side? Where the hell is this, Lemuel?"

"The Lady Callena can tell you all you need to know, McKenzie."

"I've never been a fan of 'need to know', Lem. I've always preferred 'just fucking tell me'."

"And I am certain the Lady Callena will oblige you with a great deal of information, some of which you may even understand," Lemuel replied with calm sarcasm.

"Hilarious," McKenzie shot back. "You better fucking hope I don't come back alive, Lem, and remaining alive is something I fucking excel at. I've had lots of practice."

Lemuel looked infinitely saddened by this, but then again he often looked infinitely saddened.

"My old friend, please believe me when I say I agonised for a very long time over this decision. My heart cried out in pain the day you turned from the path we set for ourselves so long ago-"

"Stop makin' shit up, Lem. I think what you meant to say was 'I was fucking pissed off at McKenzie when he stopped doing what I told him to'."

"You broke Psyonara's heart when you left," Lemuel said.

"I really didn't, trust me," McKenzie said. "On the subject, though, I hope you're feeling suitably self-recriminatory and martyrish over deceiving the poor girl into her part in this colossal fuck-up. She honestly thought you'd given her a taser or something to point at me. That's pretty fuckin' low, even by your standards."

Cally and Danandra looked on in amazed interest - neither of them had ever heard anyone speak to Lord Lemuel like this.

"Psyonara retains feelings of affection towards you, and she is a compassionate girl: she may not have pulled the trigger if she'd known the real nature of the device. I took it upon myself to do what was necessary," Lemuel replied, with resigned calm. It was the same air of resigned calm he'd probably use to tell you that he'd just wiped out the last traces of a troublesome ethnic group - if Lemuel thought something was for the eventual good, he'd see it done.

"You did what you wanted to, Lem," McKenzie told him. "You always do. This whole fuckin' mess is about you and it always has been. Has anyone else seen the Lem Master Plan? No - because it doesn't exist, Lem's just fuckin' with us."

"You know not what you do, McKenzie, when you set yourself against the great work," Lemuel replied, with the beginnings of impatience starting to modulate his tone.

"Holy shit, Lemuel, can you hear yourself? You either need a sense of perspective or maybe just to get laid, for fuck's sake."

"Do not test my patience!" Lemuel snarled, and for a second, the image in the mirror was terrifying. The girls, even Danandra, drew back in alarm. McKenzie laughed.

"At least you're still a bit human, then, Lem," McKenzie told him. "Or still a bit something anyway. I've had my doubts for a while."

Lemuel held up his hand with the fingers curled, and his serene face twisted into a furious grimace.

"I hold your life in the palm of my hand, you arrogant sneering bastard! Do not presume to mock me!" Lemuel hissed.

"Meh," McKenzie said, with a slight shrug.

Lemuel gave vent to a primal sound of frustration, as if he'd just spent infinity pushing a shopping trolley with a jammed wheel around a crowded supermarket and still couldn't find the aisle for the sugar.

"I am trying to save worlds, McKenzie. I am trying to make the universe a better place. Can't you see that?"

"Never said you lacked ambition, although frankly you're coming across as a bit insane with it. Too much coffee, that's your problem."

Lemuel, with an obvious effort, brought himself under control.

"You are where you are, McKenzie. Like it or not, you're working with me again," Lemuel said.

"No-one works with you Lem. People end up doing what you want, is all," McKenzie corrected him.

"As you please, then: you're doing my bidding again, but you may rest assured that it is all for the eventual good of the universe," Lemuel said.

"Joy, deep and abounding," McKenzie said dryly. "How long for? How long do you honestly think your little hoodoo-voodoo curse thing will work on me? Strange shit happens to, around and with me, you and me both know that."

"You will find the definition of strange in your current locale differs greatly from what you are used to. You have met Violentia by this point, I assume? Don't worry, by the way, she can't hurt any innocents: neither can you."

"Never was something I did much of anyway, Lemuel," McKenzie said.

"The UN might disagree after your little African foray," Lemuel pointed out.

"Not my fault the entire country was totally batshit," McKenzie shrugged, although the words woke a furnace of guilt and rage in his heart. "That's the thing with freedom - people are free to fuck it up as well as get it right, somethin' you haven't got through your thick skull yet and you're like what, eighty million years old?"

"Hardly, but you're no spring chicken yourself, are you McKenzie? Now, as much as I enjoy the continuation of this very old discussion, let us to business."

"Oh please let's," McKenzie said dryly. "Oh, on that subject, I'm chargin' for this, by the way." He held up the head. "I don't do assassinations, leastways not for you, so I'll charge this at standard hostage extraction rates, let's say. Add in travel expenses of infinity plus mileage plus cave-in-avoidance bonus and that comes to, lemme think...a fuckload of money and a fuck-off good kicking. I'll collect next time I see your irritating fuckin' mug."

"Lady Callena," Lemuel said, ignoring him.

"My Lord," Cally said.

"Please look after McKenzie. He was once my closest ally, a very dear friend and a great force for good in the world. He has vast strength and his courage is beyond question, but there will be many who will seek to lure him away from the path of light and bend him to their own evil purposes."

"Really? Where do I sign up?" McKenzie interjected.

"I have despatched the Sky Reaper to collect you and take you to Melindron: she will make port in Trerasa in three days' time. Take this mirror with you and deliver it to the Archmage Xixaxa."

"Try sayin' that three times in a hurry," McKenzie muttered.

"You will receive further instructions there. Now, I would advise you three to leave Mahrak's tower of magic fairly swiftly. The spells that hold back the Nowhere may not last very long, now that their architect is finally and irrevocably dead," Lemuel said. At this revelation, Callena looked doubtfully out the window, and even Danandra looked a little anxious.

"Farewell, my Lord," Cally said.

"Lady Callena, Danandra, McKenzie - goodbye for now," Lemuel said, as his image started to waver.

"Wish it was forever, you sanctimonious git," McKenzie said, not one to let the last word get away.

Lemuel's expression didn't change as it disappeared and was replaced with a reflection.

"Well, guess we'd better GTFO then," McKenzie said. "You want I should bring this?" He indicated the mirror.

Cally looked slightly surprised at a genuine offer of help from him. "Thank you," she said.

"After you, then, before we all get turned into fuck knows what by invading pink shit." McKenzie indicated the windows.

The girls nodded and disappeared downstairs.

McKenzie looked at the mirror.

"Oi, Lemuel, you still there? Can you hear me?" He said. There was no response. He grunted and put his phone to his ear.

"Did you get that?" He asked.

"Yes," Christine replied, sounding shocked, as well she might.

"Please tell me your phone is some sort of super spy model Jimmy gave you that can record calls," McKenzie said.

"Yes. It's recorded. Shit, McKenzie, is this real? Are you really-? I mean- Shit!" Christine said.

"That seems to sum it up, about," McKenzie replied.

"Be careful."

"You an' all," McKenzie said. "Very careful. You don't wanna end up here too."

"No. No, I don't think I do." She paused, then blurted. "I'm really, really sorry, McKenzie. I didn't know it was going to-"

"Not your fault. Anyway, I needed a holiday - I was thinkin' the Caribbean or maybe South America, but fuck it, a parallel dimension'll do just as well and there isn't the hassle with visas," McKenzie said.

"Look after yourself. I, shit, look, I'm sorry I slept with that guy. That was a shitty thing to do," Christine said.

McKenzie actually laughed. "Shit, Christine, times and places!"

"I know but if I hadn't done that then maybe we would've patched it up or at least separated on good terms and then you wouldn't have left and done that Africa thing and then you wouldn't have been in the bank vault and I wouldn't have sent you wherever you are now!" Christine said, sounding deeply unhappy about this chain of logic.

"Oh, I see. We were on the way out anyway, and I would've done what I did anyway. It's not your fault, seriously. Got that?" McKenzie said.

"Okay," she replied, in a small voice.

"Look, this is what I'd probably call an insecure location if I was the sort of person who called dodgy places insecure locations. Gotta go."

"I, shit, yeah. Okay. Go. Take care!"

"You too. Laters." McKenzie hung up, put his phone away and headed down the stairs. He returned ten seconds later saying 'shit shit shit' under his breath, grabbed the mirror awkwardly with his free hand (he was still burdened with Mahrak's skewered head), and went back.

Mahrak's spells of whatever didn't cease to function in a particularly spectacular way, but when McKenzie reached Mahrak's library and looked behind him, the stairs led upwards to nothing but blue sky. There were a few screams from below, but generally the noise was more along the lines of 'ooh look at that!'.

The double doors no longer radiated evil - that was broken too. The looters would not find much behind them, though. McKenzie was content to let them deal with clearing up.

The girls were waiting by the double doors. "What kept you?" Danandra asked impatiently.

McKenzie glared at her. "It's not exactly small, this." He hefted the mirror. "Didn't want to go down the stairs, did it?"

"Oh," Danandra said. "It's as small as you need it to be, look." She read something out from along the edge of the mirror, and suddenly, with an accompanying 'fuck me!', McKenzie was holding a small but ornate hand mirror.

He looked at her flatly. "You didn't want to mention this before?"

"Evidently not, otherwise I would have," she replied, equally flatly.

"I'm so looking forward to not having any choice about spending the next possibly fucking forever in your company, you know," McKenzie told her. "Here." He thrust the mirror at Cally, and set off along the corridor, still toting the head. "See you two later."

"Where are you going?" Cally asked.

"I'm gonna get drunk, make a tit of myself with the dancing girls, maybe get lucky. Pretty standard way of dealing with bad news. You two have fun," he answered, and turned a corner.

- o O o -

This indeed happened, pretty much in the order described. Drunk was achieved fairly easily, since everyone and their uncle was thrusting a drink at him the moment he came out of the front door. Given that, making a tit of himself followed naturally, but even considering his really quite pissed state and multiple cultural and linguistic barriers, item number three arrived a couple of hours later (once he'd realised that carrying Mahrak's head around was putting the girls off and stuck it into the front gate of his palace) in the lissome, patchouli-scented form of Nibnandali. This was possibly even her actual name - McKenzie thought he was catching a few words here and there - but at any rate everything significant that passed between them was not really done verbally.

It was a bloody fantastic evening, all told - the kind of night out that serial backpackers probably have wet dreams about. McKenzie woke up in a narrow, fur-covered bed to the sound of birdsong, the light of morning, the smell of woodsmoke, and the pleasant and entirely welcome feeling of Nibnandali making it perfectly clear how she'd prefer to start the day.

Zombies aside, it was turning out to be a pretty good trip, so far.

- o O o -

"McKenzie!" Cally was shouting from outside. There was scattered laughter as a few people came to the mistaken conclusion that McKenzie had ended up in the wrong bed last night.

McKenzie was having breakfast with Nibnandali and her extended family, which was made up of Nibnandali (looking very pleased with herself), a plethora of women of a vaguely similar age who were cousins, sisters or aunts, a very old and constantly laughing grandmother and about fifteen million kids, two of whom seemed to be Nibnandali's. There had been a few men who had politely nodded to McKenzie and appeared completely unconcerned that he had just spent the night with one of the family women, but they had left for the fields or wherever. McKenzie had astounded one and all - especially the kids - by taking a few snaps on the phone camera.

"Mind if I let her in?" McKenzie asked Nibnandali, who was sat companionably next to him. He pointed out the window. Nibnandali nodded equably.

"Upstairs!" McKenzie shouted out the window.

Cally arrived - she didn't quite burst in - a few moments later. She was welcomed by one of Nibnandali's sister-cousin-aunts and a place was cleared for her. Cally replied effusively in the local lingo, to the general approval of all and a particularly hearty burst of laughter from the family matriarch. She was still looking decidedly pale.

"Morning," McKenzie grinned at her as she sat down. "Cally, Nibnandali, Nibnandali, Cally." He introduced them.

Nibnandali said something welcoming and polite - it sounded like 'you honour my house' - followed by a question that might've had the words 'chosen woman' in it somewhere. Cally shook her head and replied. Nibnandali said something and laughed, as did every other woman in the room (except Cally) and the grandmother laughed so hard she dissolved into a fit of coughing and had to be given a drink of water by an attentive sister-cousin-aunt.

"What was so hilarious?" McKenzie asked, grinning.

"She just asked if you were my husband," Cally said. "I said no, and she said, er, well, you made an impression on her, put it that way."

"I aim to please," McKenzie said, and laughed.

"Do you know how difficult it was to find you? I've had to ask all over town - luckily you weren't exactly discreet when you slipped away last night," Cally said.

"I'm covered in shame," McKenzie replied with zero contrition. "On that subject, though, since you're here, can you tell Nibnandali that I had an absolutely fantastic time, she's a wonderful girl, and thank you very much for breakfast aswell."

Cally shot him a glare but translated. Nibnandali looked genuinely pleased, hugged him and kissed him on the cheek - then said something lengthy that included his name, what sounded like 'dearest hope' and put a hand over her stomach.

"She says she had a wonderful night that she will never forget and her dearest hope is that she is now carrying your child. If it is a boy she will call him McKenzie after you," Cally told him.

McKenzie paused. "Tell her, um, I wish her every happiness."

Cally translated, Nibnandali smiled. "Didn't think about that, did you?" Cally asked him.

"No - but I figured out a long time back that whatever the fuck it is that I am, there's only supposed to be one of me. Lemuel went on and on about some deeply tedious genetic theory of his - personally I'm just as glad. Don't translate that, by the way," McKenzie said, as Nibnandali started to frown.

"I won't."

"You must know the local rules and that - there appears to be a lot of mouths to feed here and I've got a few gold coins knocking around - is this the kind of culture where leaving one or two of them would be considered good manners and the right thing to do, or more like a deadly insult sort of thing?" McKenzie asked.

"I haven't got a clue," Cally shrugged. "I'm...good with languages, but I don't know the place any better than you."

"Could you sorta maybe subtly find out?" McKenzie asked.

"I'm not your personal translator, McKenzie - I'm especially not your personal translator in matters such as these," Cally said tartly.

McKenzie glared at her. He reached a decision, then into his bag, and withdrew a couple of what he now remembered were called krugerrands. "Nibnandali, you seem to have a pretty big family here so I wanted you to have these, get something nice for the kids, you know."

He proffered the two gold coins, to universal gasps of astonishment and delight and a positive flurry of kisses from Nibnandali.

"Thank you!" She said. "This is the act of a gentleman!"

"You're welcome," McKenzie replied, so surprised by the effusive response that he forgot to be surprised he understood her.

"That went down well then," he ventured to Cally.

"I've not seen those coins before, but two gold pieces is probably more money than this entire family will see in several years," Cally explained.

"Well, charity is a duty and a privilege, etcetera," McKenzie said. "And it was a pretty good-"

"Charming," Cally cut in.

"I was just gonna say evening," McKenzie said.

Cally looked unconvinced. "Well, come on - time to go. We have to get on the road if we're going to meet the Sky Reaper in time."

"Yeah, I'd hate to be late for something Lemuel told me to do," McKenzie replied, but got to his feet.

It was difficult to leave, though. He was beset by sister-cousin-aunts who all wanted to hug him, the kids all wanted to have their picture taken one last time, and Nibnandali was actually welling up. It was simultaneously charming and embarrassing. He finally managed to escape, although Nibnandali insisted on following him out onto the street to give him a last, passionate, slightly teary kiss.

"May your ancestors ever smile on you, McKenzie! I will never forget you!" She said.

"Um, me neither," McKenzie replied, embarrassed.

Cally waited impatiently.

"Finished?" She asked.

"I think I might be in, there," McKenzie commented as Nibnandali fled back inside in tears.

"Hilarious. Finished?" Cally asked again.

"Yeah. Probably. Let's GTFO," McKenzie said, then the penny dropped. "Hang on! I understood her!"

"What?"

McKenzie paused. "Never mind."

Cally led the way back to the town square, where three mounts - two glossy horses and a distinctly nefarious-looking pony - were being held in by a sullen Leni. All three looked terrified: as well they might standing next to her.

"Morning," McKenzie said. "What's up with you?"

"Couldn't keep my dinner down," Leni replied flatly. "Here." She handed him the reins of the pony, which, although it scuttled away from Leni gratefully enough, eyed him suspiciously.

"Easy-" McKenzie glanced down "-girl." He patted the pony on the nose, and she shot him a look which implied the only reason he wasn't being bitten was that he was the only thing standing between her and a grumpy she-troll.

"Do they even have horses, where you're from?" Danandra demanded, by way of hello. She had cleaned herself up - bereft of slime and smell, she was very pretty, although no cheerier than Leni. McKenzie didn't know that the reason for her bubbly attitude was that she'd been up at the crack of dawn to teleport a terrified - albeit unharmed - dancing girl out of Leni. It was a routine she often had to go through.

"Only to ride for fun, most places. We usually travel around in cars, which are metal boxes with wheels," McKenzie answered.

"There's no need for sarcasm, it was only a question," Danandra replied with ill grace. She pulled herself up into a saddle, yanked the reins from Leni's grasp, and rode out of town.

"Danandra!" Cally called, but Danandra did not return. Cally turned to McKenzie. "The town elder is on his way to bid us farewell. We can't just go."

"Reckon we can," Leni said, thrust the last set of reins at her, and strode off towards the town gates. She broke into a jog which was easily as fast as a trotting horse.

Cally turned to McKenzie. "You were expecting a heroes' farewell, I take it?" He asked.

"It's rude to just rush off without so much as a, as a-" Cally said.

"The usual finish is 'by your leave'," McKenzie said.

"By your leave," Cally repeated.

"Well, I'll wait with you. The longer there is between now and getting on this fleabitten nag the better," McKenzie said. If he was going to have no choice but to spend a lot of time with these three, then it would probably be easier all round if he made a token effort with them, and starting with the least unfriendly one seemed logical.

The elder arrived a few minutes later, and there was a short ceremony where Cally exchanged words with the aforementioned dignitary. McKenzie stood patiently by and waited. It didn't take too long, which was good, and McKenzie was now not surprised that he understood every word.

"You honour us with your words, good father," Cally said to the man. "We are but glad that your people are finally free of Mahrak's evil tyranny."

"Yeah, there's not many people I've met where I've thought 'well, the world's not gonna miss you once you're fucking dead, is it?', but he qualified with flying colours after like fifteen seconds," McKenzie said.

The elder was staring at him. So was Cally.

"Um, did I just say something that everyone understood?" McKenzie asked.

"Yes, good son," the elder replied.

"Yes, McKenzie," Cally confirmed.

"Hunh," McKenzie said, taken aback. Looked like it worked both ways. "Okay then. Um, right, thank you good, um, father. Bye then."

"Farewell, good father Inzarong," Cally said, then shot another curious look at McKenzie before she mounted up - McKenzie followed suit.

He had ridden a horse before, although it had been a very long time ago and he'd never been particularly good at it. Nevertheless, he remembered the basics. The pony, however, wasn't in the mood to be ridden, and therefore stepped smartly sideways and bit him sharply on the left hand. There was some laughter from the small crowd gathered to see them leave, which McKenzie silenced with a glare and, since he apparently now knew the lingo, also with a darkly growled 'Yes? You were saying?'

It took two further tries and a series of low-voiced threats to get into the saddle. The pony followed sullenly after Cally's larger horse, and could only be persuaded to a trot by persistent urging.

"Why the fuck have you given me this arsy little toast rack to ride?" McKenzie asked, his resolution to try and get along with the women temporarily forgotten, as they left the town and headed off after an already-distant Danandra and Leni.

"We didn't know if you could ride or not, so Danandra thought it would be safer to purchase something small and, erm, easy to learn on," Cally answered.

"How incredibly considerate of her." McKenzie said. "Remind me to thank her - with electricity." He held up his hand and made sparks dance between his fingers. Some of the sparks transformed spontaneously into wasps which buzzed spitefully around his head before droning off to start a vicious territorial conflict with some of their non-magical brethren in a nearby bush. "Whoa!" McKenzie exclaimed, batting at them.

"Careful!" Cally said. "That is no conjuring trick! If you truly can call forth such magical power, then there is no telling what it might do!"

"No shit!" McKenzie confirmed. "I don't know much about this planet, but I'll bet my arse it doesn't need more wasps."

"You did not know you could do that, did you?" Cally asked.

"Nope," McKenzie shook his head. "You didn't know that I didn't know until now, did you? I wondered why you didn't tell Lemuel. I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself, by the way."

Cally looked troubled. "Please do not ask that of me, McKenzie. I am bound to obedience to the Lord Lemuel, as are you. If he asks me, then I must tell him."

"Okay - don't mention it unless he asks, then. Can you do that? Oh, and tell me if he does. Is that fair enough?"

Cally said nothing.

"C'mon, Cally. I'm here and he isn't. Saved you from the evil zom-bee..." McKenzie adopted a faux-wheedling tone.

"Only because you had to," Cally retorted.

"Granted, yes, but you're alive, aren't you? Give a guy a break."

"Oh, very well!" She gave in. "I will not volunteer the information."

"Thank you," McKenzie said. "This buzzy-zappy thing, would it explain why I can suddenly speak with the locals? And if so why couldn't it kick in when I was talking to Nibnandali last night rather than this morning? It took bloody ages to figure out she was trying to get me to come back to her place."

"I do not know," Cally replied. "Danandra may be able to tell you more."

"I'd probably rather not know than get the information from the Ginger Queen of Arsiness, to be honest," McKenzie replied, then changed the subject. "So, not bein' funny, but why are you so pale? I know some people just always look like they could use a couple weeks on a beach, but you're practically see-through."

"It's complicated," Cally said. "I've worked very hard over the last couple of days: I've used up more of my energy than I ever have before, in the quest to defeat Mahrak. That's why I look so pale. I may...I will need my sister's help to get it back."

"Where is she?" McKenzie asked.

"Nearby. Very close. You could almost reach out and touch her," Cally replied, and McKenzie realised that she wasn't really there any more. She held her hand out in front of her, as if she was indeed reaching out.

"Cally!" McKenzie said sharply.

"What?" Cally's head jerked round, and her arm went back to the reins. McKenzie thought, just for a moment, that he heard a woman snarl out a 'fuck it!' with a great deal of vehemence, but there was no-one else around.

"You were talking about your sister," McKenzie said.

"Oh. I try not to talk about her. It's...complicated," Cally said.

"Yeah, apparently so," McKenzie agreed.