McKenzie pulled the collar of his T-shirt into a more comfortable position around his neck. It felt slightly odd to be back in earth clothes after a morning spent dressed in linen, boiled leather and mail as a medieval thug. Despite his near-total invulnerability he felt oddly naked without the mail shirt, although this was offset to a considerable degree by once again having the two SMGs to hand. That in turn was offset back in the other direction by being in a vampire's office, but at least he wasn't in there alone - Danandra was with him. He'd seen her only briefly before he left that morning, she had told him that Lady Jenata had passed on the reply from the Melindronian embassy that appeared to be genuine and untampered with, and read (coded) 'Your message has been passed on to Her Wisdom via mirror'. Thanks to his mysterious informant, he knew this to be the truth.

"You work efficiently, Lord McKenzie," Jenata told him from across the desk. "It is barely ten bells of the morning, and it is done. Cemas was impressed."

"No he wasn't," McKenzie told her. "Something's wrong with 'im, by the way."

"He was injured?" Lady Jenata asked.

McKenzie snorted. "In the head he's injured, maybe. He's cold. Kills too easily."

Lady Jenata smiled without humour. "He has his uses - and you are scarcely a model of restraint, my lord."

"Yeah, but I feel it," McKenzie told her. "He's like a fucking robot, but it gets to me. I mean for fucks' sake, I have to keep up a steady stream of bullshit not to go insane doing this shit for the likes of you."

Danandra spoke up at this point. "McKenzie!" She hissed.

"And what, pray, do you mean by 'the likes of me', Lord McKenzie?" Jenata asked him archly. "Vampires?"

McKenzie shook his head. "You are, yeah. Hell, that maybe excuses it a bit, I don't know. Doesn't excuse me, but it excuses you. That's not what I mean anyways, though. It's people who want other people dead because they're in the way, and frankly it's fuckers like me that do their work, too. I'd make a case for the world being a shinier happier place for being minus one Kandar-"

"Kambar," Jenata corrected him.

"Kambar, Jam Jar, Hoo Har, whateverthefuck his name was. His pathetic little squeals for mercy are gonna keep me awake for a fair few nights, no fuckin' mistake," McKenzie said.

"McKenzie! You're doing it again!" Danandra kicked him under the desk.

"Ow! Doin' what?" He asked.

"Pissing off extremely powerful people!" Danandra said, then turned back to the vampire. "Your pardon, Lady Jenata. He gets like this, he-"

"-is human after all," Jenata finished for her. "I take no offence, Lady Danandra. Lord McKenzie has never been anything less than completely honest, and it is true - what I require of him is not pleasant work. What we ask him to do, though, is done to ensure our survival. I do not order these things done lightly."

McKenzie snorted. Jenata regarded him coldly for a moment, then reached into a desk drawer.

"Your payment, Lord McKenzie, as per our agreement." The vampire slid a playing card across the table.

"Is this it?" McKenzie picked it up. It was slightly magical to the touch, but apart from that appeared to be an entirely ordinary playing card. It had a twirly pattern on one side, and on the other a picture of a full hourglass, resting on a flat surface.

"That is it," Jenata confirmed.

"Thanks." McKenzie squinted at the card suspiciously. It was very slightly magical, that he could tell, but not how. "Is this thing kosher?" He asked Danandra.

"Not knowing what language that was, I don't know what that means," Danandra answered flatly.

"Is it the real deal? Is it some kinda magical key?" He clarified.

Danandra took the card from his hand, and subjected it to a long, searching glance while she murmured under her breath. There was a subtle swooshing of magic.

"It is an Uniquity," she answered him, handing it back.

"Not knowing what language that was, I don't know what that means," McKenzie parroted back at her.

"It has upon it a spell of uniqueness," she told him. "This makes it unarguably unique and recognisable to the caster - it cannot be forged."

"Okay, that makes a bit more sense. Bit more of a passcard than a key. Got it." He pocketed the card. "Well, let's not let the grass grow. Gotta get you to the embassy and then I'm gonna go be a knight in shining armour and rescue a damsel in a dress, well, that and do a kidnapping, but I bet knights did a fair bit of that back in the day and who's quibbling over details anyway?" He stood.

"It's damsel in distress," Danandra corrected him.

"Whatevs." McKenzie shrugged.

Danandra rose to her feet too. "Are you truly letting me go, Lady Jenata?" She asked the vampire, who also rose.

"I am a vampire of my word," Jenata said. "I strongly advise against it until your knight in somewhat scuffed armour here has completed his crusade, but yes, you are free to go with the greatest goodwill. You are entirely welcome to return at any time, my dear, as our honoured guest."

Then the vampire smiled, and Danandra thought it might even be genuine. "Then again if I was in your position, and my choice of protector was a vampire or the archmage of Melindron then I suppose I would probably make the same decision. My design in all this was to keep you away from Iyanus - it makes little difference to me whether you find your refuge here or in the Melindronian embassy."

Danandra inclined her head. "Thank you, Lady Jenata."

"I'll be back with Bladehand as soon as poss," McKenzie said. "Then after that I'll be available for further chaos-spreading duties as per spec, but I'll probably need some time off at some point over the next couple of days to kill a god."

Jenata didn't blink, but it looked like she would've liked to. "I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah, I know it wasn't explicitly mentioned in the deal, but I kinda figured that a bit of unpaid leave wouldn't be too much to ask, all things considered," McKenzie replied.

"McKenzie speaks of an old enemy, who may be coming to Vyrinios," Danandra said.

"Who, may I ask?" Jenata asked.

"I suppose." McKenzie shrugged. "It's Le-"

"Don't say his name!" Danandra reached over and hit him on the arm.

"Ow!" McKenzie rubbed his arm.

"And you shouldn't confront him, either," Danandra went on. "He is a god. If there is anything out there you should fear, it is our white-wearing friend."

"It's not like the fucking wanker's gonna give me a fucking choice anyway, is it? This has been waiting to happen for ages. He dies or I do," McKenzie said grimly.

"You speak of the white god of legend?" Jenata asked, looking, for the first time ever, like she might actually be out of her depth.

"Yeah," McKenzie answered. "What can I say, you get a better class of nemesis when you're me." Then: "Shit."

"What?" Jenata and Danandra both asked.

"I missed a chance to say 'if there's anything out there he should fear, it's me', didn't I? Dammit." McKenzie snorted in irritation.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Danandra narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you drunk again?" She asked him.

"Fucking right I am," McKenzie answered. "Lady J here comes through on her deals but what she asks in return doesn't exactly rest easy with the old conscience. I thought I'd already belaboured that point enough."

"Shall I send for some coffee?" Lady Jenata asked. "Perhaps you would care to rest before undertaking your next mission?"

"Nah, I'm good," McKenzie told her.

"Infiltrating the most dangerous building in Vyrinios, extracting a hostage and kidnapping the High Assassin is not something that should be undertaken drunk," Jenata said.

"Well, who the fuck'd be stupid enough to attempt it if they were sober?" McKenzie retorted.

"You should still rest first," Jenata insisted.

"Hah! I'm even less enthusiastic about doing it with a hangover," McKenzie said.

Danandra shook her head. "With all due respect, Lady Jenata, in McKenzie's particular case I seriously doubt if he'd do anything differently or make better decisions even if he was sober. You haven't enlisted his services to benefit from his wisdom or analytical thinking skills, and if it comes to fighting, he depends on brute force and laying randomly about himself anyway."

"See?" McKenzie pointed to Danandra, then furrowed his eyebrows. "Also: oi!"

"Go on, look me in the eyes and deny it," Danandra challenged him.

McKenzie looked down. "Such a thing as being subtle about saying things like that, you know," he grumbled.

"Look who's talking," Danandra stated drily.

"Alright, it's a fair cop," McKenzie admitted.

Jenata actually laughed. "What you say is true, Lady Danandra. If subtlety was going to achieve my ends, I would have gone myself. Farewell for now - and give my regards to Revlius. We were once friends, in a different life."

"Right you are," McKenzie said, already halfway out of the door. Danandra inclined her head, and followed him.

- o O o -

To the surprise of several passers-by, a small whirlwind appeared in the square in front of the Unsheathed Dagger. It blew for only a few moments, and then died away. Xixaxa and Heska stood where it had blown. The Archmage looked around - Heska put her hands up to her hair, which, unlike her mentor's, had been blown into a tangled mess by the magical wind.

"I only had this done this morning, Your Wisdom," she complained. Freed of her compulsory wolfishness, Heska had fallen back into a few habits of vanity, one of which was a near-obsession with the state of her hair.

"My apologies," Xixaxa replied, sounding not at all contrite. "This is the place?"

Heska looked at the sign. "Yes. McKenzie told me that Callena could be found here."

"Excellent." Xixaxa walked forward, up to the stairs. Heska followed her, but their way was blocked by a pair of men in black clothing. One held a bow, the other wore a robe. Assassins, Heska thought. It wasn't surprising that the guild was watching the building.

"Halt," the bowman said.

"Why?" Xixaxa asked, ignoring the half-drawn bow.

"Erm, Trueflight, I think this might be the-" the mage of the two started to say.

"Shush." Trueflight cut him off. "Because I said so, that's why. What are your names and what business do you have here?"

"Our names and our business are our own affair," Heska said curtly. "You would be wise to get out of our way, assassin."

"Answer me or face the consequences," Trueflight said, and then gasped in surprise, and jumped back from the edge of the tall building he suddenly found himself standing on. "What happened?"

"The Archmage of Melindron happened, fool," the mage, who had also been transported out of the way, replied. He pointed down to the square below, where the two women continued on to the door of the whorehouse. The taller of the two looked up and gave them a mocking wave. "I tried to warn you."

"Sorry," Trueflight had the good grace to apologise. "The High Assassin will want to know."

"Aye, and if he's got any sense, he'll bring the Arrangement to a swift end. We're lucky to still draw breath - you just aimed a bow at the most powerful being in all the known lands," the mage said. He took a small, polished stone out of his robes and passed a hand over it. "High Assassin? You asked to be informed of any developments at the brothel."

"I did," the High Assassin's voice issued from the stone. "What has happened, Darkwand?"

"The Archmage of Melindron has arrived, with another woman. She does not match the description of the targets."

There was a pause. "Crowbar must not be allowed to enter the building while the Archmage is there - I do not want those two to meet. Do you understand?"

The assassins nodded. "We do. With all due respect, though, High Assassin - he is not an easy man to stop."

There was another pause. "If he will not listen, tell him that I want a progress report, in person, at the Guild - and if he does not come immediately Nightwing's life will be forfeit. That ought to get his attention."

"Yes, High Assassin." Darkwand passed his hand over the stone again.

"This is ill news," Trueflight said.

"He will not dare move so openly against Nightwing," Darkwand shook his head.

"He will - this High Assassin thinks himself unassailable."

Below, the most powerful being in all the known lands knocked on the door to the Unsheathed Dagger, which was opened instantly by a pretty girl in highly impractical clothing.

"Your Wisdom, my lady, please come in," the girl said. "Madam Listra will see you right away." She indicated an open door, off to the left.

They were met in a pleasant chamber on the other side of the door by a stately, handsome woman.

"I am Madam Listra," she said. "Welcome to my establishment."

"We were expected?" The Archmage asked her.

"You were not unexpected, Your Wisdom," Listra replied. "Please, sit down."

"Thank you." Xixaxa seated herself. "I hope you will excuse my coming straight to the point, Madam Listra, but my time is short. We are looking for some friends, one of whom I believe is currently a guest of yours."

"She was, but she was taken from here yesterday, or rather, I should say, she allowed herself to be taken," Listra answered.

"Oh no," Heska said, fearing the worst - Lemuel had already been and gone, and it was not just Callena who was lost.

"Who took her?" Xixaxa - not jumping to a conclusion - asked.

"The Assassins Guild took her to the troll crimelord Iyanus, Your Wisdom. I am sorry, she insisted, she saw it as her duty to protect Hennara from-"

"Then she is in no danger," Xixaxa cut in.

"Tell me where," Heska said, practically snarling – her eyes flashed green. "I will find this troll, tear his head from his shoulders, and free Lady Callena."

Listra's eyes went wide, but she kept her seat.

"Be at ease, Heska," Xixaxa said. "Instead, let us both listen as Madam Listra tells us everything she knows about what has happened to Lady Callena and our other friends. Pray be fast but accurate, Madam Listra, and leave nothing out."

Listra nodded. "It all started the day before yesterday, Your Wisdom," she began.

- o O o -

It was already starting to get crowded in the Artists' Quarter, but McKenzie had an incredibly loud whistle and was exuding an air of general impatience and irascibility that, combined, served very well to keep the street traders away and bring a carriage rattling up to them.

"Melindron Embassy mate," McKenzie told the man as they got in.

"Scratch that," Danandra said. "Take us to the Unsheathed Dagger," she told the driver.

"What? No, I've got this," McKenzie told her.

"You have most decidedly not 'got this', McKenzie. You are not making good decisions, and need I remind you that you've already called our master's attention to our current situation?" Danandra reminded him tartly. "We'll collect Cally and then we can all go and rescue your friend – you need help."

"I suppose I'm touched, Danna, but this ain't your fight, and it's not a village hall I'm planning on barging into here, these people are dangerous badasses with a capital Fuck You," McKenzie replied.

Danandra bridled at his tone, but held back an angry response. "She wouldn't be in trouble if not for all of us," she said instead. "And Talius wants to help too."

"Hmph. Is Talius planning on de-necklacing anytime soon?" McKenzie asked.

"Yes - but not in the street," Danandra answered.

"Is an actual destination too much to ask?" The driver asked wearily.

"Fine," McKenzie said, flinging a pair of silver coins at the man. "The Unsheathed Dagger, please - and if you can do it fuck off quickly there's two more silver imperials with your name on 'em.

"Right you are, sir." The man cracked his whip, and away they jounced.

"Any chance of a thank you?" Danandra asked pointedly.

"Thank you," McKenzie said.

"Hmm," she bristled, then: "And thank you for arranging my release."

"You're welcome, Talius," McKenzie replied. Danandra glared. "Go on, tell me he didn't prompt that thank you."

Danandra huffed. "Yes, he did. Happy now?"

McKenzie laughed. "Yeah. Seriously, though, why don't you go to the embassy. I don't want Iyanus catching up with you."

"I hope he does," Danandra said, kindling a ball of blue fire in one hand, as if to remind herself she was a powerful mage. "I am done being the damsel in a dress."

"Damsel in distress," McKenzie pointed out.

"Whatevs," Danandra replied, and smiled a very dark smile that portended very bad things for someone.

- o O o -

"We'll be at Vyrinios inside the hour, my lord."

"Good."

The captain bowed, and backed away, leaving Lemuel to stare out the window towards the city on the horizon.

It had been a few years since he'd dealt with McKenzie face to face. The man was infuriating - irresponsible, immature - but, inconveniently, no less immortal than Lemuel himself. The Great Work could not afford to ignore him - he certainly couldn't be allowed to run around on earth, causing trouble. Lemuel had thought that on this world he could be put to good use, or at least kept conveniently out of the way, but it seemed the man had a gift for bringing chaos to any world. He must be brought to heel once again, it seemed.

But could he be? The man had proved intractable before. Will I have to destroy him? Lemuel wondered, and, on the tails of that, an evil pair of traitor thoughts. Can I destroy him? Can he destroy me?

"Boss, you have moment?" Sergei had been hovering behind him. He spoke in english, so the bridge crew could not understand him.

"Yes, Sergei. What is it?"

"My source in Melindron has just contacted me," the Russian said. "He says that talk in Melindron is Archmage has left Tower with the wolf woman. Nobody knows where they have gone. As far as he can tell, is true."

Lemuel nodded. This was not unexpected.

"I have a good idea where they are," he replied. "They are there, seeking to band together to defy me. My friend, there is a slight chance that this could get interesting. Do not mistake me, you have become proficient in magic, but we go now to contend with two very powerful pracitioners: the Archmage herself, and the magical equivalent of a malfunctioning nuclear warhead in human form. I fear you may find yourself 'outgunned', Sergei."

Sergei opened his mouth to say that he understood he was not ready, and must stay out of the way when Lemuel confronted the Archmage.

"So I hope you are prepared to give your life for the Great Work," Lemuel finished.

Sergei blinked.