As soon as McKenzie demolished the wagons and ripped the cages to bits, the metal was loaded by the amazed crew of the Huntress and the ship, heavier by her well-gotten gains and forty-five liberated slaves, rose slowly into the sky and set a course for Melindron.

The erstwhile slaves moved into the mercenaries' stopgap accomodation in the hold - McKenzie was given a small cabin, and a sailor knocked on the door and respectfully offered wine, bread, a washbasin and a clean shirt. The Captain begged his indulgence and would he be willing to wait an hour for dinner whilst she saw to redistributing cargo in the hold? Yes he would.

McKenzie gave himself as thorough a wash as he could, ate the bread, drank some of the wine, and looked out the porthole. Nothing happened quickly with airships, it seemed - the Huntress was still rising to her cruising height.

The phone rang again - McKenzie answered it.

"Yarr, Pirates Are Us this be. Who be hailin' me across the void?" He asked, in a ridiculous piratical accent.

"Congratulations, you made the evening news." An american voice, male, sardonic.

"Jimmy. How's tricks?" McKenzie replied, in his normal tone.

"So-so." McKenzie could almost hear the shrug.

"The bank thing, right?" McKenzie asked.

"Yeah, your heist, something about an influential senator and smuggling conflict diamonds: the proceeds went into the election funds of our current POTUS. There's even a grainy spycam video of the senator assuring the then-future-and-now-soon-to-be-ex-president that nobody would ever know. Thirty million youtube views and climbing," Jimmy confirmed.

"A bent politician, who'd'a thought it," McKenzie replied.

"Apparently you escaped without trace and remain at large: you're the FBI's newest most wanted. On the other hand, 'Pardon the Diamondgate Hero' has already got over eight million likes on social media and there are like fifty online petitions calling for all charges to be dropped, so you might even get away with it."

"Well I never," McKenzie said. "Anyway, I'm assuming you're not just ringing me up to let me know I'm notorious again?"

"Got it in one," Jimmy said. "What's your situation? I already got 'previously, on McKenzie' from Susie and Psyonara, so you can cut the backstory."

"Escaped from the slave wagons, enabled all other slaves to do same, big fight, we won, now guest on pirate lady's ship heading for a town name of Melindron to hopefully catch up with the coven."

"Coven?" Jimmy asked.

"Lem's cut-price Charlie's Angels - one's an elf, one's a troll, the other's...insanely hot but oddly annoying," McKenzie supplied.

"Oh yeah. Damn, guess it's too late for some of the care package to be of much use then," Jimmy said.

"Care package? Not that I'm ungrateful for any help, Jimmy, but whuh?" McKenzie asked.

"I've been lookin' through Lemuel's files, kinda on the QT. Thought something rang a bell when I heard what'd happened to you. How much room where you are?"

"Not much, I'm in a cabin. Basically it's a big cupboard. Hang on - what's your email?" McKenzie snapped a picture of the cabin and sent it to the address that Jimmy gave him.

"Hmm. Look at the bed."

"Lookin'," McKenzie said. "Should I be getting my hopes up about a return trip, Jimmy?"

"Not at this stage," Jimmy said. "See - and this knowledge comes straight from the files of our mutual boss - teleportin' between two worlds requires two things. On my end, we need a device capable of, well, openin' a channel, so to speak."

"Ie, you," McKenzie said. "Or, presumably, the shiny remote control Christine zapped me with."

"You're two for two today - yeah, me, or the device Psyonara used. On the other end, you need somethin' capable of receivin' the signal," Jimmy said.

"Which we don't have," McKenzie said.

"From what Susie said, I think we might," Jimmy countered. "Think about it."

McKenzie thought about it. "Nah - nothin'. I wasn't ever the brains of the operation, Jimmy, that was you and Susie. And bastard-face, I suppose, he might be a twat but he's a clever fuckin' twat."

"Just look at the bed, McKenzie."

McKenzie looked at the bed. "It's a bed, what's the big-"

Then, slowly, a small, blue, glowing cloud appeared over the bed. McKenzie felt the now-familiar tingling sensation.

"Seein' somethin'?" Jimmy asked.

"Whoa. Yeah," McKenzie replied.

The glowing cloud brightened, intensified and then seemed to become solid. Then, with a faint popping noise and a great deal of smoke, a smouldering bundle of rags appeared on the bed.

"Jesus!" McKenzie coughed, wafting smoke away from his face. "What the fuck!"

"What happened?" Jimmy asked.

"Congratulations, you sent me a small fire!" McKenzie said. "You know how dangerous that is on board a wooden vessel?"

"You're welcome," Jimmy said.

"Sorry," McKenzie yanked the blanket out from under the package, causing it to fall to the floor with a heavy thump, then smothered the sparks with it. "Um, it's great! Thank you. What is it?"

"I figured some shielding'd be needed - Susie's gonna be pissed about the bedding from the spare room," Jimmy said. "Strip all that off."

McKenzie ripped the recently-extinguished sheets and blankets – they were wet underneath - away from the solid object in the middle.

"Shame, it's a nice pattern," he said. "Very Laura Ashley - Susie picked them out I'm guessing."

"Har har," Jimmy said.

McKenzie stuffed the half-sodden, half-burnt bedding - the ship's blanket was ruined too - out of the porthole, leaving a small, slightly warm rucksack on the deck, which he unzipped.

"Hey wow, thanks!" He said, taking out the contents. "This really would have been useful, too."

He was holding a very large handgun, of the type normally carried by people for whom attack by enraged, adrenaline-pumped grizzly bears was a frequent occupational hazard. It was black, heavy and there were four boxes of ammunition, a spare cartridge and a shoulder holster in the bag.

"I thought, y'know, if his powers are on the fritz a bit...the word troll was mentioned in the conversation, too. I figured that gun might maybe stop one," Jimmy said.

"I'll find out first chance I get," McKenzie said. "Thanks man."

"Look underneath," Jimmy went on.

McKenzie looked. "Aw Jimmy, you know me so well." He lifted out a grenade.

"Took it off a bad guy last week, figured I might aswell toss it in too. Sorry there's only one."

"Well, you know the old saying: in the land of no grenades, the one-grenaded man is king."

"At least until he throws it," Jimmy laughed.

"Well, I'll make sure to use it on the right bad guy," McKenzie replied. "So - how'd you do it? What's the receiver?"

"You are," Jimmy explained. "Susie said you'd been absorbing powers since you got there - I figured that maybe the first thing you'd downloaded woulda been whatever it was that opened the channel at the other end. Looks like I was right."

"Looks like," McKenzie agreed, slamming a cartridge into the pistol and balancing the wine bottle in the porthole. "Test-firing now, hang on a sec."

McKenzie squeezed the trigger, producing an almost deafening bang. The pistol had an almighty kick and produced a tremendous muzzle flash, but in McKenzie's iron grip it held steady. The bottle disappeared, the only testament to its existence a few small shards of glass embedded around the porthole.

"Win," he said.

There was a hammering on the door.

"Sir, is everything all right?" A sailor asked.

"Hold the line a sec," McKenzie told Jimmy, hurriedly replaced the gun and grenade in the bag, then kicked the bag under the tiny bed. He opened the hatchway.

"Hi - what's up?" He asked the wide-eyed sailor outside.

"Sir, we heard a very loud noise."

"I sneezed. Sorry."

"You sneezed, sir? It was really very loud, sir, are you sure that-"

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks for making me feel uncomfortable about my loud sneezing, by the way. That's really very insensitive."

"Um, sorry sir."

"Never mind, I'm used to it. Oh, can I have another blanket? And maybe can someone do something later about the funny burning smell in here? Cheers." McKenzie closed the hatch on the dumbfounded sailor and put the phone back to his ear. "I'm back."

"You're hilarious, you know that?" Jimmy said flatly.

"Yes, yes I do," McKenzie replied. "So what does this mean for me getting home?"

"Well, it's one way at the moment - gotta figure out how to make the return trip without a transmitter like me at your end, or a receiver like you at my end. Also, that little trick took kind of a lot of juice - I had to borrow the output of a small nuclear reactor. Plus you can see what'd happen to a normal person we tried to send unshielded," Jimmy explained.

"Crispy critter," McKenzie said. "I'm still really very happy indeed about the grenade and the gun."

"I aim to please," Jimmy said.

"I see what you did there," McKenzie said.

Jimmy laughed, but then asked seriously: "You okay man?"

"I've honestly been worse. Here, look, this is my dinner date tonight. Ignore the bruising - we had kind of a shitty day - and the medieval backdrop is also history now." McKenzie emailed the picture of Jahistra to Jimmy.

"Nice. Is this the Pirate Princess?"

"The same," McKenzie said, remembering that he'd always got on quite well with Jimmy.

"She's hot," Jimmy said. "Freed her from slavery, you say?"

"Yep. Dramatically," McKenzie confirmed.

"Unless you make some kind of massive douche move, you are so getting laid tonight. Lemme know how it goes."

"Hah - a gentleman never speaks of such matters," McKenzie laughed. "One thing, before I go. You said you'd been looking through twatface's files. Why the sneaking around?"

There was no reply for a moment. "Hard to say." Jimmy said.

"Watch - your – arse," McKenzie said emphatically. "If he doesn't think you're on side anymore, well, look what happened to me."

"I hear ya," Jimmy said. "Anyways, gotta go. Hang in there man."

"Thanks. Laters, Jimmy." McKenzie cut the line, then spent a few minutes fiddling with the shoulder holster, discovered that the thing was just too fucking big to wear underarm, and eventually just threaded his belt through the holster and wore it behind his back, where at least it didn't interfere with his movement even if it was no comfier. He put the spare cartridge in a jacket pocket, the grenade in another, and all of a sudden was the best-armed person on the entire planet.

There was another knock on the door. McKenzie opened it to reveal the sailor, this time burdened with a blanket.

"Captain's compliments, sir, and would you care to join her in her cabin for dinner." the sailor said, then swallowed. "She says you won't need this, sir," he added, handing McKenzie the blanket.

McKenzie smiled, and threw the blanket over his shoulder onto the bed. "Awesome. Lead the way."

- o O o -

Jimmy had been right on the money. It was a great night, and indeed it stretched into a good morning, too.

"Do you do that with all your friends?" McKenzie asked.

"A fair few," Jahistra replied equably. "Does this offend you?"

McKenzie shook his head. "No."

"I am glad to hear it. I hope to not offend you again before we arrive at Melindron - probably tomorrow morning," Jahistra said, with a smile.

She was right on both counts. The next morning, Melindron appeared on the horizon. It was easy to spot - a tall, slender tower appeared long before any other details could be made out.

"Is that a mooring tower?" McKenzie asked Jahistra.

She shook her head. "No - the docks are on the outskirts on the far side of town. That is the Archmagisterial Palace: more usually just referred to as The Tower."

"Archmedge-, archmadgester-, okay, yeah, The Tower. As in 'where an archmage hangs out', yeah?"

"Yes."

"Seems kinda tall. Lots of stairs, probably. I don't suppose that-"

"No."

"How'd you know what I was gonna ask?"

"I just know."

"OK," McKenzie said. "There better be a lift."

McKenzie, stood on the bridge, snapped a few pictures of The Tower as the Huntress sailed past it at a respectful distance. It was pure white, so much so that it was a little bit painful to look at directly, and covered all over with intricate carvings. There were windows, but McKenzie didn't see anyone looking out of one. The lower levels contained the houses of government and the bureaucracy: no-one knew what the uppermost levels contained, apart from the Archmage Xixaxa.

Jahistra said later that she shuddered to think what would happen to any ship that approached The Tower without permission from the Archmage. She had a bit of a reputation, it seemed. While the city state of Melindron, under her auspices, had become a free port, a haven for freed slaves and was generally accounted a good and fair place to live, the lady herself was generally spoken of in terms such as 'utterly terrifying', 'do not cross', 'dangerous to anger', 'known to be devastatingly ruthless to her enemies' and 'almost incomprehensibly powerful'. This didn't fill McKenzie with confidence.

He might never meet her, though. The first order of business was to figure out if the Sky Reaper was in town, and if the coven still were too.

"I have a friend at the port authority," Jahistra said. "He will know which ships are in, and the troll is hard to miss."

Most of Melindron clearly tried to imitate the tower in architectural style, being marble and slender where possible. The docks, on the far side of town, did not: the buildings were wooden, clustering round the docking towers. They had this in common with the docklands McKenzie remembered from earth - they belonged to no one city or nation, but to the sea, or in this case the air. When you entered them, you were in the domain of the sailors, not the local government.

The Huntress signaled her arrival - and the fact that she was carrying freed slaves - to the control tower: she was assigned a docking tower and informed that an agent of the Archmage would receive the slaves (plus Khatafri) and, if their stories checked out, pay a reward.

"My first mate can deal with that," Jahistra said, as the Huntress completed her docking manouevres. McKenzie was carrying the backpack - if Jahistra thought its sudden appearance interesting or suspicious, she did not betray it with a question. She'd also had more than ample opportunity to notice McKenzie's newfound armament and had not passed comment on that, either.

It appeared, however, that Jahistra's friend wasn't going to be necessary, at least for the first part of the question: the ship at the very next tower was unmistakeably the Sky Reaper.

"Hmm: awkward much?" McKenzie asked Jahistra – who of course had noticed this far earlier.

"Such occurrences are not uncommon in port," Jahistra said. "Barden will respect the peace, as will I."

"I might too, as long as he's got a good reason why he didn't come back to look for me while the people ostensibly trying to kill me did," McKenzie said.

When the Huntress had docked, she was boarded by a port agent, whose job it was to check that no-one aboard was obviously diseased. This done, Jahistra paid the man a few coins - mooring fees - and the Huntress was officially in port.

Jahistra strapped a Sefaran sword to her waist and put on a heavy leather coat before going to the passenger platform, and offered McKenzie the same.

"I'm dangerous with swords," he said, and shook his head.

They descended the platform, and only had to walk a few paces before coming across a member of the Sky Reaper's crew. The man recognised him, too, and dropped the crate he was carrying with an expensive-sounding crash.

"S'up," McKenzie said. "Pick up your box and go tell your guv I want a fucking word with him."

The man scrambled to comply. McKenzie smiled, and looked at Jahistra, only to see that she was pale and tense.

"There is no way in two worlds that troll is laying a finger on you," McKenzie said.

Jahistra nodded. "Thank you."

"You can go back to the Huntress if you want," McKenzie said. "I can bounce Barden's bonce off a bulkhead as easy by myself as with company."

"I will keep my word," Jahistra said.

"Never thought you wouldn't," McKenzie told her. "But if you'd rather keep it from the Huntress, that's cool."

Jahistra shook her head.

Barden came over - initially bustling through the crowds of sailors and longshoremen loading crates aboard the Sky Reaper, his approach slowed dramatically as he caught sight of McKenzie and Jahistra.

"You!" He said.

"Last time I checked," McKenzie replied.

"I was talking to her!" Barden said.

"Well then that's just rude," McKenzie told him.

"But you're dead!" Barden was open-mouthed.

"Are you talking to Jahistra or me now? You're not being very clear, Barden. Get a grip," McKenzie instructed him, with a smirk.

"You, Mr. McKenzie. We thought you were dead," Barden clarified.

"As you can see," McKenzie told him, "the rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated."

"We heard no rumours, Mr. McKenzie - you were seen being hit by a-" Barden started.

"Yeah, I know already, it's just a saying," McKenzie cut him off.

"I take it you are a prisoner," Barden said.

"No. Captain Jahistra and I decided to help each other out - lucky for me that her crew actually give a shit about leaving people behind, otherwise I'd still be walking."

"Mr. McKenzie, as I said, we thought you dead-"

"You thought wrong," McKenzie said. "So, where are they?"

"That is a matter we should discuss alone." Barden shot a glance at Jahistra.

"You can talk in front of her," McKenzie said.

"Sir, clearly you have been forced into an allegiance of convenience, but Captain Jahistra-"

"Is a lot closer to the top of my trust list than you currently are, Barden," McKenzie said. "Now where the fuck've they got to, or I'll rip the tail off your ship and use it to bash the nose in. Oh, and I'd like to know where my fucking bag is too."

Barden's mouth opened once or twice. "I-I don't know," he answered. "We arrived yesterday, and they took their leave at once. They have your possessions."

"See? Simple enough question, really," McKenzie grinned at him. "See you round, Captain. If you see 'em, let 'em know I'm alive, fucking furious, and if anyone hurts Jahistra, I'll hurt them twice as hard, Leni included. Got that? Ta."

McKenzie turned and left, Jahistra at his side.

"You mentioned you knew a guy," McKenzie said.

"This way," Jahistra replied.

About an hour later, McKenzie was sipping some awful spirit in a low-ceilinged, smoky tavern with Jahistra and her contact, a slightly older man plainly of the same race as her. He was a big, rope-muscled bloke and delighted to see her - probably one of her 'friend' friends, McKenzie decided.

"Ah, those three? Hard to miss," the man said. "They went to the The Tower, and were admitted to the upper chambers: it was so surprising that a troll was so honoured that it has been all over the town."

"They come out since?" McKenzie asked. The man shook his head.

"Thanks man," McKenzie said: this confirmed what he'd already guessed – they'd gone to the Archmage's gaff. Jahistra nodded at her contact, and they left.

"You will seek your associates in The Tower?" Jahistra asked outside.

McKenzie nodded. "No choice. If I had a fucking choice in any of this I'd be elsewhere right now, your company excepted."

"I will accompany you," Jahistra said.

"No." McKenzie shook his head. "Listen, I'm not gonna ask you to do anything else. You've kept your word and more, and you got a ship to run with people depending on you. Let's go back to the Huntress - write down what you know about who hired you and we'll call it quits."

Jahistra looked at him levelly. "Very well. However, I do not consider my debts discharged in this matter: you may still call upon my aid to entrap your enemy. You may do that in any case: I consider you a friend, McKenzie."

McKenzie smiled. "Likewise."

They returned to the Huntress, where Jahistra spent an hour or so filling three pieces of parchment with what McKenzie assumed was a highly detailed account of the circumstances surrounding the attack, while McKenzie cleaned and oiled his gun. She inserted the results into a steel tube and handed it to McKenzie.

"Hit the high points for me," he said, as he accepted it. "I suppose I'd look a proper prat if it came up in conversation."

"His name was Meriskos. Short, ill-favoured, paler than you. The deal was struck in Lesser Jheria - he is the Imperial Governor there," Jahistra said. "He specifically stated that everything in the possession of the three women was to be delivered to him - you were not mentioned. There were no specifics as to what he was seeking, he just stated that you were thieves and he was seeking to return some property to it's rightful owner."

"Probably didn't want you to know the original owner was Marrick the Undying," McKenzie said.

Jahistra's eyes went wide – this had not come up yet. "You stole something from Mahrak the Undying?"

"Mahrak. Right. Technically we stole it out of his castle after I killed him, but basically, yeah," McKenzie confirmed.

Jahistra's eyes went even wider. "You killed Mahrak the Undying?" She asked.

"Yeah. Is that a big deal?" McKenzie asked.

Jahistra just nodded.

"Okay then. Well, thank you again for, y'know, rescuing me and everything."

"It was you that smashed the bars of that wagon," Jahistra reminded him, regaining her equilibrium after McKenzie's revelations.

"The Huntress would've found us anyway, and demanded your release at ballista-point," McKenzie said.

"That is by no means certain," Jahistra replied, handing him a bundle. "Here - a blanket, flint and tinder, some other necessaries - and your share of the head money from the freed slaves."

"Thank you," McKenzie said. "You can keep the-"

"Shut up, McKenzie," Jahistra said, with a rare smile, and kissed him into silence. "I hope we will meet again - often."

McKenzie grinned. "Know what? Me too."