The track through the forest was too twisty and turny for McKenzie to go at full tilt, but he nonetheless managed a respectable speed that a good horse would be proud of. It was only a couple of miles before he caught up with the carriage, because, predictably, it had stopped and an argument had broken out. Heska was back in human form and was pointing a finger at Sharinta, Danandra and Leni.

"Oi!" He said, coming to a halt. "You lot are supposed to be going full pelt along this track. No pun intended this time, Heska. Why the fuck've you stopped?"

"Do a headcount and take a wild guess, oh observant one," Danandra advised him.

McKenzie did.

"Where the fuck is Anaharra?" He demanded, drawing his gun and pointing it at Danandra.

"Gone," Sharinta said.

"I can fucking see that for myself," McKenzie said, shifting his aim to her. "Where, and why?"

"That way," Sharinta pointed. "And why is...complicated."

"Simplify it for me," McKenzie shifted his aim to Leni.

"I've seen what that thing does," Leni said, "so could you stop pointing it at the team?"

"Team my arse," McKenzie said. "Heska, tell me what happened."

"There has been a magical signal of some kind, that much I know - I felt it. Danandra called for a halt, she says because the rear wheels are coming loose, but we could smell the lies on her," Heska informed him.

"That's 'we' you and Anaharra 'we', yeah?"

"Correct. She is already becoming a powerful were," Heska said.

"Damn it," McKenzie said. "Anaharra!" He shouted. "You can come back, I ain't gonna let anyone hurt you."

"McKenzie," Danandra said. "If you can break the curse, now would be an extremely good time."

"Fucking Lemuel," he said. "I'm not ready. Fucking Lemuel and his fucking bullshit."

"Are you referring to the White Overmage of Ancient Helleron?" Heska asked.

"Fucking probably. If he's an overbearing interfering prick with a god complex, then yes," McKenzie replied.

"You are rich in the quality of your enemies, McKenzie," Heska stated. "His power is the very essence of magical legend – he is usually accounted amongst the gods."

"Figures," McKenzie said. "I take it you're still toting that mirror, Danandra?"

"Not quite. A similar, lesser device – one of many the Archmage has been able to create now she has access to the original we took from Mahra-." Danandra replied.

"Whatever," McKenzie interrupted, forcing a scowl from Danandra. "What did he say?"

"He said nothing – I said it was a lesser device. The Archmage Xixaxa, on the other hand, has ordered that-" Danandra stopped and looked at Heska. "Lady Heska, our will is not our own in this matter. I witnessed your vow to protect the Empress but please consider well how to keep it to your best advantage."

"Spit it out, Danandra. What has Lady Scary Knickers told us to do to Anaharra?" McKenzie demanded.

"We have been ordered to kill her," Danandra answered simply.

"Sorry," Sharinta said. "Not our call. I'd really rather we didn't have to, and not just because it means a probably deadly battle with Heska and maybe even you. I liked her, she was nice."

So that was the motivation Xixaxa was handing him to break the curse. McKenzie expelled his breath, and glanced at his watch. 08:47.

"Fuck's sake. Lemuel and his fucking bullshit. Four hours. Just four more hours and we were home free," he said, mostly to himself.

"Careful what you say out lou-" Danandra started to tell him.

"Shut up, Danandra," McKenzie growled.

The curse was moving the gun for him, towards Heska. McKenzie reached for the Archmage's anti-curse and fed it power. He immediately felt weak, there was a stab of pain deep into his head, and the gun started to feel like it weighed about eight tonnes. He gritted his teeth and moved it back to cover Leni, Danandra and Sharinta.

"Danandra's right about one thing - you can't best protect Anaharra by getting into a two or three way shitfight at the side of the road. Can you find her?" McKenzie asked through gritted teeth.

"I could find my sister anywhere," Heska replied.

"She's not your sis-, never mind. Find her, keep her safe and a few steps ahead of them and me until it becomes obvious that, well, fuck, this is gonna be complicated but there'll be a massive magical brouhaha that you can't possibly miss. Her best chance of lasting safety is to be close to me but only in about four hours, fuck, shit, no hours here - at about midday. Did you get that?" McKenzie explained.

Heska shook her head. "Not a single word, I'm afraid."

"You're really, really bad at this whole divided loyalties thing, you do know that don't you McKenzie?" Sharinta interjected.

"Helpful," McKenzie retorted.

What to do? He couldn't hold the curse off forever - he couldn't even hold it off for a minute or so at this rate - and when that failed, he was going to have no choice but to kill Narra. Without him she might escape this particular predicament, but McKenzie knew Lemuel, and he was relentless.

He'd send others until the job was done. While she was on this world, her life would always be in danger. She was probably safe with Heska, whom the other three seemed wary of, but she wasn't going to be safe from him.

Basically I'm the fucking problem: again, McKenzie thought with grim humour. If I was out of the picture for a few hours this whole thing would probably sort itself ou-

"Holy shit," he said, out loud.

"We have our orders, McKenzie. We don't have to fucking like it, but we do have to do it," Sharinta said.

"Heska," McKenzie said.

"I do hope these instructions are going to be somewhat clearer," Heska stated.

"Shitloads," McKenzie told her. "Keep Anaharra safe. Keep me safe. Keep this safe." He held up the gun, and simultaneously sparks started crackling around his other hand.

"What are you going to do, McKenzie?" Danandra said. Her face was contorted with the conflicting imperatives of fear and the desire the raw magic was invoking in her. Sharinta and Leni looked merely shit-scared.

"Something really, really stupid," McKenzie said. "Now run!"

He unleashed a series of lighting bolts into the ground, each one producing a localised clap of thunder - and a nearly unbearable jolt of pain in his head as the competing demands of the anti-curse and the quintessence tore at him. Danandra snapped her fingers and, with a shadowy billow of blackness, disappeared. Leni and Sharinta turned and fled into the forest.

McKenzie lashed out and felled several trees with another terrifying bolt of energy. His head felt as if it was about to explode.

Heska had taken cover behind the carriage.

"Might I remind you we're on the same side?" She pointed out loudly. "I assume so, at any rate! It's rather difficult to keep track in present company!"

"We fucking better be. When I wake up, I might be more controllable. Wake me at high noon," McKenzie said through gritted teeth.

"Why will I need to wake you at-?" Heska emerged from cover.

Then, making sure he was letting a bit of quintessence spark around his fingers, he shoved the gun into his temple and, with a scream of effort, pulled the trigger.

"Gods above!" Heska said, jumping at the noise and the spectacle of a man shooting himself in the head.

"Ow," McKenzie said, his ears ringing. "Ow ow ow ow ow. Fuck. Didn't work."

"Clearly. What were you hoping to achieve?" Heska asked.

"Unconsciousness!" McKenzie said, overly loud. All he'd actually achieved was an even greater headache.

He could feel the curse staging a fightback against his borrowed magic. He had minutes, at the most.

Think, McKenzie. Clearly the ballista bolt hadn't hit him in the head, then - but he had no idea where it had hit him: the sailor pulling the trigger had thought he'd missed. He had a similarly vague idea of how the explosion aboard the HMS Swallow had rendered him unconscious, save that he'd been facing forward, away from the magazine, at the time. It had been behind him.

"I need an explosion behind me," he said.

"I would be delighted to oblige, but any detonation I could make would be magical, and therefore ineffective against you," Heska told him.

Then he remembered.

"Here. Take this. Be careful with it, you've seen what it does." He safetied the gun and held it out to Heska. She approached gingerly and took it. "Now get into cover, behind a tree."

Heska was only too happy to obey.

McKenzie tore open the carriage door, wrenched his pack open, and dumped it out. He found the grenade where he'd left it, wrapped in cloth.

"Well, I did say I'd be careful to use it on the right bad guy, and it is a rainy day," he said to himself, then pulled the pin and dropped the grenade over his shoulder. He put his fingers in his ears and started counting.

One, two, three, four, fi-

- o O o -

There was an odd, reptilian smell, and a quiet, leathery rustling from all around. All was blackness, but suddenly, despite the fact that McKenzie couldn't tell if he currently had a body or not, there was a brush of velvet, and then a voice made of layered hisses.

I have been searching for you.

"Well, you found me. Well done. Now you can have a nice sit down for a bit," McKenzie answered.

We have an enemy in common, immortal.

"I've got a few. Sorry, you'll have to be more specific," McKenzie replied.

The white god who binds you in slavery.

"You mean that sanctimonious tosser really is a god? You just can't get the deities these days, can you?"

The highwitch's spell might free you, but it will not defeat him. If you gain your freedom, seek out my avatar. Champion my cause, and we shall destroy him together.

"Sorry, I don't do causes," McKenzie said. "I do custom theft, hostage extractions and, alright, if the money's pretty unrefusable and the target is a proper bastard, the odd assassination. Sometimes. And unless you mean the film - I'm guessing you don't - I dunno what an avatar is."

Stand against me, and you shall be utterly destroyed.

"Is this how you usually do your recruiting? To be honest it's a bit sinister and threatening. Normally people just mention a price, the Ts and Cs, whether there's free coffee from the machine in the staff kitchen, that sort of thing."

You shall have armies to command, dragons to do your bidding, the wealth of nations to toy with and harems of she-devils to satisfy your every desire.

"Now that's what I call a benefits package. No coffee machine, though? Can the she-devils make lattes? The dragons could probably heat the milk up."

All I ask in return is absolute devotion.

"Aw, and you nearly had me with 'harems of she-devils'," McKenzie retorted. "Nice offer, granted, but I'm not really into absolute anything. If you want to discuss terms for a normal job, call my agent. My rates are quite reasonable."

For good or for ill, immortal, we shall meet again. For now, be wary. She seeks you with her thoughts.

"What? Who does?"

- o O o -

"She seeks us with her thoughts," Heska was saying to Anaharra.

"Does she know where we're hiding?" Narra asked in return.

"Not yet, but she is persistent and powerful. We will have a confrontation before the day is out," Heska stated. "You're awake," she added, to McKenzie.

"Gnh?" McKenzie grunted - something wet and slimy was wrapped around his face. His head was thumping unbearably, although he was not using the anti-curse. He couldn't move his arms or legs - he couldn't move anything - and there was a sudden flaring up of pain as something cold and hard nudged him in the back of the head. His vision hadn't improved - it was pitch dark, although the lizard smell was gone, replaced with the moist, earthy aroma of soil. To top it all off, his left boot appeared to be filled with water. Lovely.

"Your legs and arms are encased in tree roots - no easy feat, I might add, to persuade them to move to my bidding. Your mouth is covered, too - we are hiding, and I do not care to have my careful work of dissimulation ruined by an untimely shout. Your noisy device is held at the back of your head, just as you pointed it yourself, and you may decide for yourself if you want to risk it being used for a second time. Is that sufficiently controlled for your requirements?" Heska asked.

"Mm-hmm," McKenzie confirmed.

"McKenzie, are you alright?" Narra enquired in an urgent, low tone.

Despite his growing fondness for the girl, McKenzie couldn't suppress the angry sarcastic thought: I've just shot myself in the back of the head, blown myself up with a grenade, and woke up unable to move, wrapped in wet minging tree crap. I'm OBVIOUSLY FINE! However, since he couldn't speak, he had to content himself with another "Mm-hmm."

"Can you control yourself?" Heska asked. "Blink twice for yes. We can see you even if you can't see us."

McKenzie channelled some power into the anti-curse. Either it didn't take quite as much toll when he was weakened or his headache was as bad as it would ever get, because the sensation of crushing pressure was minimal. He blinked twice.

"I will take you at your blink," Heska said, with a certain grim amusement. "One more thing - do not utter the name of any of your former companions. The one who searches for us would hear it like a clarion call, at the present time. Do you understand? Two blinks again if you do."

McKenzie blinked twice again, and the roots over his mouth slithered loose. They creaked and cracked as they moved.

McKenzie spat out a few bits of dirt and tree-yuck - quietly. "The escape went well, then. Where are we and what time is it?"

"We are underground, hiding beneath one of the largest trees in the forest: I have created a magically shielded space amongst the roots - as long as we are quiet and you don't do anything catastrophically stupid and magically loud, I estimate we have some time before we are discovered, but not much," Heska told him. "In answer to your second query, I do not know: we are underground. Perhaps late morning, perhaps early afternoon."

"McKenzie, please, are you alright?" Narra asked. She put her hand on his cheek.

"I'll be fine, don't worry," McKenzie told her.

"You were so pale and cold and you weren't moving and-" Narra went on.

"I know. It happens. I'm fine, seriously. Heska, I need my arms free, can you do that?" McKenzie asked.

"Can you guarantee you won't attempt to escape or kill Her Majesty?" Heska asked bluntly.

"No, but it's not likely. At the moment, I'm no stronger than you two - in fact I'm pretty much as normal as I ever get at the moment. If I try anything cute, pull the trigger," McKenzie said.

"The small lever like a crossbow release?"

"That's the badger."

"Very well." The roots shifted and slithered to allow him to move his arms - he worked the light on his watch, which seemed to take about all the spare strength he had left. 12:35pm.

"Shit," he said. "I need to get at my jacket. Need to make a call."

"Do not call out, I will use this on you if you do," Heska warned.

"Heska, if you hurt him-" Narra started to growl.

"He cannot be hurt - that is the entire problem," Heska told her.

"Heska's right, you can relax. Well, not really, but you can relax about that anyway," McKenzie said. "It's not that kind of call. It's more of a message."

"A magical communication?" Heska asked. "That would actually be worse. She that seeks us would sense it."

"Well, it's not magical per se," McKenzie said, then remembered that the last few times he'd charged his phone he'd done so by frowning forcefully at the battery indicator. "Actually scratch that, it blatantly is magical, but I need to know what's going on with our escape route, and if I don't ring them - I mean, if I don't send a magical call out, then someone's going to send one in anyway, so we're no worse off."

"You are not prepared for a confrontation with your friends," Heska said.

"I am," Narra growled. "I am quite finished running. Let them come - I'll rip them to bloody rags and feed what's left to the crows."

"Three things," McKenzie said. "One - Your Majesty - you are so hot right now. Two and three - Heska - it's probably to our advantage that I'm not prepared for a confrontation, and the word 'friends' is a bit strong and implies a level of trust and respect that really wasn't there right from the get-go, to be honest. So, that said, time to phone home. Jacket, please Heska."

"Your Majesty? What say you?" Heska asked.

"I trust McKenzie," Narra said.

"I thought we had words about trusting me and how you shouldn't do it," McKenzie said. "However, in this case, good. Now please-"

The underground hide was filled with a muted chirping.

"Well, that's that decision made, anyway. If she-who-must-not-be-named-at-least-for-the-minute is listening in, she's hearing that. Move these roots," McKenzie said.

Heska sighed, but the roots moved aside. McKenzie pulled out his phone - the screen briefly illuminated a tiny, earth-walled space, the display said 'Christine' - and answered it.

"100% Organic Underground Bunkers, McKenzie speaking. Hi Christine. This line is insecure. No time to explain. Be quick," McKenzie answered.

"Um, okay, shit," Christine said. "We've been trying to get through to you. We're good to go. The countdown is at one minute! Get in the open, away from people."

"Understood. Thank you," McKenzie cut the line. "Out - out now. We're getting the fuck off this fucking rock. Heska, once we're gone, you'll be free to do whatever the hell you want."

"Your frie-, your compan-, the others will be here soon. They'll have a good idea where we are. If they were already close, they could be no more than moments away," Heska said.

"In like a minute there'll be something that nobody could miss for them to head for - it's immaterial at this point. Do we dig or what?"

"No," Heska said, and snapped her fingers.

The walls and floor of the root-cave started to creak and squirm, and moments later light poured in. It was bright and sunny - replacement clouds obviously hadn't been drafted in yet after last night's surprise tornado. The roots lifted them up to ground level and deposited them all on the forest floor - McKenzie almost literally: he found he couldn't quite stand.

They all looked around, squinting. They were alone.

"McKenzie!" Narra said, and lifted him up into a hug. "Are you alright?"

"I've felt worse," McKenzie lied. "Heska: gun."

Heska made the correct assumption about what he meant, and handed him the pistol.

"This is not a good idea. If I break my vow because I followed your instructions, then it shall be known that you broke it. I think the fates will consider that fair," Heska said.

"Cheer up, Your Ladyshipness," McKenzie said, although it was without humour. "You said Danandra can hear if we say her name?"

Heska sighed. "This 'rock' will be a lot less infuriating once you are no longer on it. Yes, she can - and did. Do not give her any further means to discover where-"

"Great," McKenzie said, then lifted his face to the sky. "Danandra! If you and Shar and Leni don't wanna end up dead, stay the fuck away! It's about to kick off big style here, and I ain't gonna guarantee that people won't end up gettin' set on fire!" He bellowed.

"I think she heard that without any magical assistance," Narra commented with uncharacteristic - or perhaps newly-characteristic - asperity.

"I don't do subtle," McKenzie said, then winced again. The pain was increasing, but he was sure he could hold on for a minute or two at least, and that should be all he needed. He lifted his boot up, and dirty water trickled out of a hole in the heel. The grenade must have gone off right behind it - ordinarily any clothing McKenzie wore inherited his indestructability.

At that moment, there was a terrific noise, as if a giant had just torn up a phonebook, accompanied by a blinding blue flash. Moments later, smoking fragments of several trees thumped to the ground. A blue vortex of swirling energy appeared, about a metre from the ground, pointed directly at McKenzie. Through it he could see three wavering figures - Susie, Jimmy and Christine.

"You really don't do subtle, do you?" Heska agreed.

"McKenzie!" Christine shouted. "Can you hear us?"

"Just!" McKenzie shouted back. "This is fucking awesome! Good job you guys!"

"Suits!" Christine shouted, and gestured with her arm. Two metal crates lifted themselves from the floor where she was standing, and flung themselves through the portal. They arrived on the grass just in front of McKenzie - blackened and smoking.

"Ouch," he said. "Open them up!" He told Narra. "There's armour in there. You'll need it."

"You mean we'll need it," Narra said.

"I don't burn!" McKenzie told her.

"Let's test that theory, shall we?" Danandra shouted. McKenzie whirled around - or tried to, but found he merely stumbled around ungracefully to face Danandra, Sharinta and Leni.

"I told you so," Heska said, and sighed. "Now we have quite the problem, no?"

"Can't argue with that," McKenzie said, raising the gun to cover them. "Anaharra - get dressed, go through."

"I would advise you to keep your distance, ladies," Heska said. "As aware as I am of the multiple layers of conflicting curses, oaths and loyalties that seem to define you four as a group, for the next few moments I am very particularly focused on protecting Her Majesty. I would prefer that we do not fight, but I assure you I will."

"I don't know how!" Anaharra said, holding up the unfamiliar silver suit

"Me neither," McKenzie said. "Extemporise. Get your arms and legs in at least."

"Look, we're sorry, okay?" Sharinta said. "It's fucking awful. That's why they call it a curse and not a minor inconvenience. Can you take it out on him and not us, though?"

"Oh I will!" McKenzie shouted back. "Heska, do a shield or something. Danandra could do that. Can you?"

"Yes," Heska told him.

"Fine. Do it."

Heska made a gesture with two hands, absurdly like the movement required to draw a pair of curtains. A wall of green light appeared between them and the coven, but McKenzie could see it was wavering uncertainly, and Heska went pale and slumped visibly. Then she collapsed, and the wall went with her.

"Fuck, it failed that fucking soon?" McKenzie said, with an increasing sense of dread.

"Your portal is stronger and more unstable than I thought. Magic is as useful as spitting in the face of that! The troll is the threat," Heska said, gasping. "Danandra and Sharinta - or I - can do nothing here."

Then she passed out.

Danandra - who had correctly anticipated that magic would be A Bad Idea in front of the portal, sighed. She said something to Leni, who grinned ferally. She took a few steps forward, but then, looking at the portal and McKenzie, paused and looked uncertain (as well she might).

"Still got this!" McKenzie gestured with the gun. "And there's nothin' magical about it in the fuckin' least, I can assure you!"

"McKenzie! Quickly!" Jimmy shouted. "This thing could come to bits any minute!"

"Shitfuck," McKenzie muttered. He backed over to Narra, who was struggling with the protective suit. "Here," he tried to help her into it with one hand.

"I'm not leaving without you!" Narra shouted over the increasing din of the portal.

"I thought we had words about that! I'll be right behind you!" McKenzie shouted back as he awkwardly secured the straps that held the suit shut up the back.

Leni was edging forward. McKenzie aimed and tried to pull the trigger, but it was no good: the curse wouldn't let him harm her. He poured more power into the anti-curse, but immediately started to black out, and screamed in agony. The portal was making that harder too, it seemed. He settled for a warning shot over her shoulder.

"Feeling lucky, troll?" He asked her. Leni paused by the prostrate Heska.

"Remember the deal, Leni!" Danandra added her voice.

Leni stepped over her. Evidently she did remember the deal, and she was feeling lucky.

"Aw - you giftwrapped her for me!" She said, regarding Narra in the silver suit.

"I will rip you limb-from-limb..." Narra growled at Leni.

"Jury's out whether you could manage that or not, Your Majesty, and since the payoff is looking mighty tasty and your bodyguard looks to be on his last legs, well, let's find out, shall we?"

Leni lunged forward just as Narra growled and tensed to spring.

McKenzie dug deep and gathered up what was left of his will and strength. He shoulder barged Leni, sending her stumbling backwards to trip over Heska and fall to the forest floor, and clapped a hand on Narra's silver-suited shoulder to haul her back.

McKenzie picked up the helmet, and shoved it over Narra's shoulders. It clicked into place.

"Sorry," he told her. "I can't kill her, and-" he stopped. "There's just no time," he said.

Then, with what was left of his strength, he picked her up and flung her through the portal. There was a blue flash, a wavering of the air between McKenzie and his earthside friends, and then he saw Narra's suited figure slide across the floor to fetch up against the far wall.

"McKenzie!" Leni protested. "D'you know how long it's been since I had any elf? You bastard!"

"Fuck you, Leni," McKenzie muttered to himself, as he sank to his knees. The portal started to oscillate in an irregular, threatening manner, and every few seconds the view through to earth would blur and flicker.

The weight of the gun pulled his arm to the floor.

Narra had ripped her helmet off.

"McKenzie!" She screamed. "Come on!"

"Crowbar!" Christine yelled. "Jump!"

McKenzie staggered to his feet and prepared to jump.

"No! Don't move!" Jimmy's voice cut over them both. He was peering at a laptop computer with a worried expression.

"Not an issue," McKenzie answered in a hoarse rasp, and sank to his knees again.

Narra got to her feet and tried to get back through. Jimmy and Susie made a grab for her and failed, but Christine was thinking fast, and stopped her with a gesture.

Jimmy turned to a console and feverishly hammered at a keyboard for a few seconds, then raised a hand and concentrated. The noise abated somewhat, although the portal now gave out a menacing impression of barely controlled violence.

"I think that's slowed things down a bit, but it's unstable. Don't come through," Jimmy said. "I'm sorry man."

"MCKENZIE!" Narra screamed.

"You need to run!" Jimmy said urgently. "This thing is going to blow, and I can't let that happen in the middle of New York, so it's going to blow at your end."

Danandra and the others had, by now, run forward. Leni was carrying a senseless Heska.

"Sorry, hi, you must be...whoever the fuck you are," Sharinta shouted to Jimmy. "What's happening and are we likely to die?"

Jimmy held his hand to his ear, a puzzled expression on his face: he couldn't understand.

"Get away from him you evil traitorous bitches!" Narra interjected.

"He'll be fine. You've left this world, it seems - mission accomplished as far as we're concerned. We're curse-bound to protect his miserable existence. McKenzie, ask your mage how far away we need to be when this portal loses integrity," Danandra indicated Jimmy.

"Blast radius?" McKenzie asked.

"At least a mile!" Jimmy replied. "You've got maybe three minutes. This thing is way less stable than the simulations said. I'm sorry!"

"Oh God, Crowbar!" Christine's hands went to her mouth.

"Well, Danandra, if you start running now, you might live for an extra second or so. That answer your question?" McKenzie stated. Danandra didn't reply, although she looked phenomenally angry.

"Radiation?" McKenzie croaked.

"None - that stays in Indradesh - just a really, really big explosion: a huge release of what, in your world, will manifest as magical energy," Jimmy said.

"I think I can take care of that," McKenzie jammed the gun into it's holster and levered himself to his feet. The curse was no longer insistent upon Narra's death: he let the anti-curse fade, which granted him a minor amount of strength.

"Are we going to die? If so, I'm eating Danandra. Or maybe Heska," Leni interjected. Everyone ignored her.

"I'm sorry," McKenzie said, looking at Narra. "Looks like the universe has got it in for you and me. I think we might've had something, together. I haven't felt that way, since, well, I can't remember. No offence, Christine."

Christine sniffed and wiped a tear from her face. "None taken, Crowbar."

"McKenzie! Please. Use your magic, make it work like you were able to make Heska's machine work," Narra pleaded.

"No can do," McKenzie shook his head.

"I can't understand what she's saying, but don't do anythin', McKenzie," Jimmy said. "I got no idea what might happen, even if you do," Jimmy said.

"I can guarantee you, James, that he does not."

The voice, the contemptuously familiar voice that immediately ground on McKenzie's already frayed nerves, came from behind him. The sheer flash of hatred gave him enough energy to turn around.

"You," McKenzie growled.

"Me," Lemuel replied.

Incongruously, as he came strolling out from between the trees of an alien world, he was wearing one of his usual white suits, and carrying an iPad. Leni and Danandra immediately bowed. On this planet, to McKenzie, he carried a terrifyingly awesome sense of magical power, greater even than that of the archmage: and by a long shot, too. He seemed to gleam, and McKenzie, despite everything going on, had to squint when he looked at him.

McKenzie remembered the odd dream, if dream it had been: the white god who binds you in slavery. It didn't seem such a stretch to describe him as such right now.

"Oh shit," Jimmy and Sharinta said at precisely the same time.

"Please calm yourself, James," Lemuel said to Jimmy, ignoring Sharinta for the moment. "I have known what was happening for some time. You were seeking to help your friend McKenzie. Friends should help each other, I would expect nothing less. You have my word this changes nothing between myself and the group, and you also have my word - you too, old friend - that I will do nothing to harm Her Majesty now that she has left this world. I regretted bitterly the necessity that impelled me to order her death: I rejoice that you have found an alternative way. She will need a lot of help acclimatising to her new home, but, in time, I hope that she will become a valued member of our little team. In the meantime, Susan and Christine, please look after her."

"Oh do fuck off," McKenzie replied.

Lemuel smiled. "Regrettably, you will be enjoying my company for the next few minutes, at least. We have the minor issue of an unstable interplanetary portal to resolve, after all."

"OK. So Lord Lemuel's here. This means we're not going to die, right?" Leni interjected, pausing with an inert Heska just inches away from her mouth.

"Correct, Lady Violentia," Lemuel replied. "Please put Lady Heska down. She is not on the menu today."

"I've got this," McKenzie told him, ignoring the exchange. "In fact, after I've sorted that, why don't you and I have, y'know, a fight to the death? It's been a long time coming."

"My old friend, the curse might not control you quite as completely as the delightful ladies here, but I can assure you it controls you enough. I don't have to worry about a confrontation," Lemuel told him.

We'll see about that, McKenzie thought.

"Send him through!" Narra shouted at Lemuel. "You bastard!"

Lemuel's eyebrows rose. "You are much changed, Your Majesty."

"I'll rip your fucking head off!" Narra screamed at him.

"Calm yourself, my dear. You have a new life in a new world ahead of you - in time, you will cease to miss him. Take my advice: move on. There are better prospects out there for you," Lemuel advised her.

McKenzie glowered at Lemuel. Lemuel returned a bland expression.

"Goodbye, Anaharra," McKenzie told her. "He's right about one thing: you've got a fresh start. Don't waste it on regrets. Maybe we'll see each other again some day, maybe not, but either way do me a favour: live. Enjoy yourself. Make a difference. Do whatever you want with your life, but have one, okay?"

Narra shook her head, face streaked with tears.

"Promise me!" McKenzie said. "This is important."

Narra nodded slowly. "I lo-, I would have loved you," she said. "But I promise."

McKenzie smiled. "I would have loved you too, and even if that's all we get, maybe it's more than some people ever have."

"As touching as this is," Sharinta said, "could we maybe deal with the thing that's about to turn the forest into a smoking pile of ashes, and us with it?"

McKenzie sighed. "Yeah. Jimmy: cut the power at your end, or whatever it is you need to do."

"Be careful, Crowbar!" Christine said.

"Very careful," Susie advised, the first thing she'd said - but she'd always been the quiet type.

Lemuel had raised a finger to draw something in mid-air. McKenzie sniffed disparagingly. "Amateur," he said, and turning his back on Lemuel, grinned through the portal: "Let's rock."

"McKenzie! What are you doing?" Lemuel cried, but McKenzie was ignoring him. He thrust his hand into the portal and opened up his internal reservoir.

The first few seconds were actually rather pleasant. The magical energy flooded into him, faster even than Mahrak had been able to manage. McKenzie's weariness and weakness fell away like a crumbling husk: he felt euphoric, renewed and invigorated - he felt awesome. If McKenzie didn't already know that immortality felt pretty much like normal, he would've said that this was what it must be like. The view of Earth faded: everyone looked panicked, apart from Narra, who just looked forlorn, but it seemed to not be causing any problems over there. His last glimpse of home was Narra turning her face upwards and howling.

"WHAT'S HE DOING?" Leni roared over the sudden terrific noise - it sounded like someone was tearing the forest in half. "ARE WE GOING TO DI-" She stopped as an opaque blue shield flickered into existence around everyone save McKenzie. Lemuel grunted with the effort - the first time any of them had heard him sound like he was even slightly pushed physically or magically - but it was quiet and still within: in fact there was nothing to indicate that a magical maelstrom raged mere inches away. "Are we going to die?" Leni finished.

"At what point, I am curious to know, was anyone going to see fit to inform me that McKenzie had gathered a few extra powers?" Lemuel enquired. All three of the women - even Leni - went pale. Heska, whom Leni had dumped on the ground, now that she'd been ruled out as a snack, had come to, and her eyes were wide with fear.

"You didn't ask," Sharinta shrugged. "Thought you fucking knew. Um, I mean, knowing as we do that you are incredibly powerful and wise, we never thought for a moment that this knowledge would not be, um, we thought you knew, Lord Lemuel," she finished, stumbling over her words under his sudden frosty glare.

"I did not," Lemuel said coldly, then turned to Danandra, who was both pale and flushed and hot and cold in the presence of so much powerful, conflicting magic. "Is it the quintessence?"

Danandra nodded.

"That is worrying," Lemuel said.

"Indeed," Danandra said. "There is no safe method of defeating one who wields it." Lemuel did not see Heska look up at her as she spoke.

"So, uh, what do we do, boss?" Sharinta asked.

"And are we? Going to die, I mean?" Leni added.

"I do not know," Lemuel said. This was particularly discomforting: none of them had ever heard him say that before.

Meanwhile, McKenzie was starting to realise that he'd possibly bitten off a bit more than he could chew. He felt as if he was at breaking point, internally, and the power was still coming. The euphoria had faded to be replaced with anger towards Lemuel and bitter disappointment that Narra, though safe, was beyond his reach, possibly forever. In turn, that made him even angrier: a hard, smouldering anger, made all the more intense by the fact that it's focus was just a few feet away, cowering behind his shield and his curse.

Suddenly, McKenzie remembered that he had a useful outlet for any anger-fuelled power, or powerful anger, that was knocking around. He called up the anti-curse and then poured everything into it.

Miles away, in Melindron, the Archmage looked up from her papers and smiled, then continued writing calmly.

Excruciating pain blossomed into being in McKenzie's body and mind. The pain just made him angrier: he screwed it up and shoved it into the anti-curse. It was all fuel for the fire.

Inside his shield, Lemuel looked up and blinked. Something was happening that he had not expected.

"No!" He shouted. "Stop!"

McKenzie, however, wasn't listening.

The archmage hadn't exaggerated: the anti-curse needed a lot of power. Spurred on by McKenzie's anger, it raged into a life of it's own. The pain increased and increased, until McKenzie honestly thought that this was it: he'd finally perfected his Icarus impression, flown too close to the sun, and was about to die.

Then came a tearing wrench, and McKenzie was hurled backwards. The anti-curse was gone from his head: instead, it pulsed in the air before him: a tangle of rage, anger and pure frustration. It sought for more power, found the maelstrom of energy that was the portal, and plunged into it.

The portal was instantly gone: the sudden fall of silence came almost as a physical blow. The archmage's spell, like some sort of magical cursor, blinked three or four times.

Then it, too, was gone.

"Is that it?" McKenzie asked. He felt fine, but otherwise unchanged. Not particularly un-cursed, freed, liberated or otherwise changed.

His phone was ringing. Jimmy. McKenzie dug it out.

"Ground Zero Nuclear Detonation Avoidance Bros. Ltd, no nuke too nukey, magical mash-ups a speciality. Everyone alright?" He asked.

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "You?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, the portal's gone," McKenzie replied. "How's Narra?"

"Um, yeah, about that. She, um, look, I'll be honest with ya: she turned into a really fuckin' huge wolf and jumped out of the window - last seen heading out of town at high speed. We'll find her, I promise," Jimmy said.

"You might or might not," McKenzie replied. "My guess is if she doesn't want to be found, you ain't gonna. If she can do the wolf thing then we can assume she's also extra fast, extra strong and extra arsy, too. She'll be fine. I wouldn't want to lay odds on the chances of anyone who crosses her, but she'll be just fine."

"I think maybe we'll keep our eyes open just in case," Jimmy replied.

"Not a bad idea," McKenzie said. He looked over at where the others should be standing, but there was nothing visible except the blue hemisphere of magic.

"I don't think you noticed, but there's a gun with ammo in each box. We figured that what with your situation being what it was, you might find yourself having to cover your own escape, if you follow. I guess it'll come in even handier now," Jimmy said.

McKenzie flipped open the other crate, and under the environment suit there was indeed a smaller ammo crate, secured with a hefty padlock.

"Good call, Jimmy. You forgot the key though." McKenzie said.

"On purpose," Jimmy told him.

McKenzie grinned, jammed his phone between his shoulder and his ear and then effortlessly twisted the lock from the box.

"Well, it looks like I'm definitely alright," McKenzie said, then, thinking of Narra, felt immediately guilty. "Well, I mean, I didn't need a key. Still me. Strength-wise."

"I know what you meant, man," Jimmy said.

McKenzie lifted out a small submachinegun of the sort favoured by eastern european special forces and gangsters: not as heavy as his current piece, but still not the sort of gun you'd want to ignore. It was loaded, and there were three curved cartridges with it. The other crate contained the same: he chucked everything in the first, including the spare suit, just in case, and closed it up. The lock on the outside was a melted mess, but the crate was so buckled and heat-twisted that it held itself shut.

"Got 'em," he said. "Thanks."

"What now?" Jimmy asked. "Is Lemuel still there?"

"Yep, and still in this blue force-field thingy. S'pose I'd better go knock," McKenzie said.

"McKenzie, man, don't go doin' anythin' crazy," Jimmy said hesitantly. "I know you hate the guy's guts but, well, if nothin' else he's a very heavy hitter. Heavier even than you. Remember what he did to that 'Dark Doctor' character a while back? We had to use a vacuum cleaner to get all the bits cleaned up. You don't wanna be that guy."

"Best if I go, Jimmy. Whatever happens – thanks," McKenzie ended the call, turned his phone off, then once again drew out the big handgun. He walked up to the featureless, inscrutable barrier: up close, McKenzie could see that it was actually composed of a myriad of constantly-shifting interwoven patterns. It was really quite beautiful.

"Well then," he said to himself, then plunged his free hand into it. There was the barest millisecond of pain, and then the by-now-familiar tingling rush as the substance of the magic broke down and shattered, then rushed into him.

Everyone inside looked startled, except for Lemuel, who merely raised an eyebrow.

"Game over, Lem," McKenzie said, and levelled the pistol at the man's head. The women all looked on uncertainly.

There was a long pause.

"Shit," McKenzie said. He switched his aim to Leni.

"McKenzie hey now wait a second I can't help it it's my nature the curse made me do it and-" Leni started babbling, backing away.

But he couldn't pull the trigger. There was no anti-curse to reach for within: just a silent, formless and powerless echo of what the archmage had once put there. McKenzie sighed.

"Round one to you, it seems, fuckface," he told Lemuel, and holstered the gun. "But I will fucking break it eventually."

"No, my old friend, you won't. It is as unbreakable as diamond. The magical method you just used to try and break it is technically referred to as a charm. A rather inoffensive sounding term for something that can be very powerful and dangerous. There are only two practitioners capable of constructing such a work of skill and art, and I know that I did not do it, which leaves only our mutual friend the Archmage of Melindron," Lemuel said, then lifted his head upwards. "Would you be so good as to drop by, Xixaxa?" He asked.

With barely a flicker, Xixaxa was standing in the forest, equidistant between McKenzie and Lemuel. She glanced at Lemuel, then turned to McKenzie. "I owe you an apology," she said. "I have used you ill. Is Her Majesty safely away from here?"

McKenzie nodded.

"I am glad." She cast an impassive glance at Lemuel. "It is unjust when the innocent must suffer to further the designs of the powerful."

"I am sworn to a greater justice," Lemuel told her. "This does not make me any less glad that she did not have to die."

McKenzie coughed: "Bullshit!"

"I am not having this conversation with you again, McKenzie," Lemuel said, then turned to Xixaxa. "I am disappointed, Lady Xixaxa. I had hoped that one such as you would put aside her personal ambitions and willingly spend her life upholding the greater good. Swear to me that you will not seek to break the curse again. Much could have gone awry this day, thanks to your rash attempt."

"There can be no greater good than the cause of freedom," Xixaxa responded. "I have failed to free myself and my fellow slaves this time. I will not promise to stop trying: that would be a lie."

"You may relax: it won't be a lie," Lemuel said. "Swear it."

"I refuse."

"Swear it!" Lemuel snapped, and the curse lashed at the Archmage, who was forced to her knees.

"Very well," Xixaxa said, and despite her protestations of emotionlessness, McKenzie had seldom seen a bleaker expression of hatred on anyone's face, even his own. "I swear I will make no further attempts to break the curse."

"Everyone else too," Lemuel said.

"I so swear," Danandra said, reluctantly.

"Like I could anyway. Yeah, I swear," Leni said.

"I swear," Sharinta said.

"We noticed," McKenzie said. "A lot, in fact."

"Lady Heska," Lemuel said.

Heska coughed. "My Lord Lemuel, while I would not pit myself against thy will, I do not have the honour of counting myself amongst your followe-"

"You have had, for the past few minutes. You're too dangerous to have running around unleashed, my dear Lady Heska. Welcome to your new pack. Now swear."

Heska blinked, surprised. "I...swear. I actually do. Oh dear."

McKenzie snorted. "Don't worry, Lady H, you get used to the crushing sense of stifled free will after the first few disappointments."

"McKenzie," Lemuel said.

"Hah - how's 'fuck off will I' sound, Lem?" McKenzie replied.

"You will swear," Lemuel said, and the power of the curse bore down on him.

McKenzie grunted, then sniffed and shrugged. "Like you say, Lemmy: enough, but not as much as them. I wouldn't worry, though, it's not like I've mysteriously gained the power to do way-out magical zappy shit that's totally unpredictable and might banjax your curse at any moment. Oh, wait, I have. Heh, I bet that's gonna keep you awake at night. If you even sleep, anyway."

"One day, old friend, I will silence that tongue of yours and you will learn your place," Lemuel said darkly.

"Never gonna happen, Lembo," McKenzie told him. "Anyways: to recap, looks like mission accomplished - from the princess-is-safe-forever point of view, at least - it's a nice day if a bit wet underfoot and I'm bored. Who's for getting all our crap from the carriage, heading to the next town and getting shitfaced? Lemski, you can even come if you want - you can teach the ladies how to play fruit ninja on your posh iPad there. Fair warning, mind, I will be being a mouthy gobshite to you at all times. It never gets old. Xixxy, I totally owe you a drink or ten for giving Our Lord and Master here a few moment's pause and who knows, if I get drunk enough maybe I'll shoot Leni by mistake and the world'll be a better place by minus one troll."

"Hey!" Leni protested.

"Supervillain. Sue me," McKenzie shrugged.

"Charter an airship at the next town large enough to have a tower, and return to Melindron," Lemuel told them, ignoring McKenzie. "I will contact you soon."

The women all yes-my-lorded. "We're totally hitting the pub first," McKenzie added.

"McKenzie," Lemuel addressed him. "Put aside your habitual distrust of me for a moment and listen. For reasons which I cannot fathom, you appear to have developed, stolen, borrowed, been gifted or otherwise acquired a number of magical powers. All magic is dangerous and should be used with care: it is as dangerous as plastic explosive, as difficult to master as rocket science, and as unforgiving as a leak at a nuclear reactor. Even experienced and powerful mages, with several lifetimes of study behind them, can find themselves overwhelmed by a spell gone awry. The fates have seen fit to give you of all people, who is almost the very definition of a man with an impulse control problem, the ability to simply unleash it at will. This is called quintessence, and it has killed everyone who ever had the ability to wield it and usually anyone within a few miles of them at the time. I appear to be unable to command you to not experiment with it, but please, for the sake of everything you hold dear, don't. A rip in the fabric of the space-time continuum could be the least of our worries if you fly off the handle and start lashing out with the magical equivalent of an atomic warhead." Lemuel fixed him with a hard stare.

"Hey, wow, if I try really hard do you reckon I could break gravity?" McKenzie asked.

"Yes," Lemuel stated simply.

McKenzie was genuinely taken aback. "Oh. Well, for the record, you're still a prick but I'll try not to end existence as we know it."

"Danandra can tell you more, if you have the wit to listen and understand," Lemuel said.

"And if she can keep her clothes on while she explains," Sharinta murmured.

"You have your orders," Lemuel said. "For now: farewell." He blinked and disappeared.

"And off he fucks," McKenzie said. "Well, Your Wisdom, it was a nice try but looks like- hey, she's gone too!"

"She was never really here in person – neither of them were," Danandra told him. She was hot and bothered, but, she briefly reflected, she was alive, which was a plus.

"I fucking wish we weren't either," Sharinta sighed.

"At least he didn't say to walk back," Leni said.

McKenzie stared at the place where the portal had been. "I'll go get our stuff. Don't wander off." He turned and left, suddenly feeling very much alone.

"Hey!" Sharinta caught up with him. "You okay?"

McKenzie opened his mouth to make the obvious reply, then stopped. Nobody was here because they wanted to be, he reminded himself, and out of all of them, Sharinta - and Callena, he supposed - were the least objectionable.

"Been better," he said. "Thanks for asking. I ain't gonna hold anything against you - stop smirking, I'm still very pissed off right now - against you or Danandra over this. Leni I will shoot full of lots of holes the first chance I get. Which it looks like will never happen anyway so even she's got nothin' to worry about, the big green cow. Heska gets a blank slate, too, I suppose. How about you?"

"Well, I didn't have to kill anyone, I didn't get ripped to shreds by a hyperwere mage, I didn't get shot by your hand blasting thing, I didn't get turned into a fucking smoking pile of ashes by whatever it was you summoned up, and I didn't get blasted into a million tiny pieces by my vengeful boss, so, on balance, fuck it, yeah, I'm fine," Sharinta said. "Want some help with the bags? Which are that way, by the way."

"Thanks," McKenzie said, changing direction as indicated.

"Listen, for what it's worth, I think she really had fallen in-"

"Not planning on discussing that, Shar," McKenzie said. "She's safe, but she's gone. End of story."

"You never know, you might find another way to-"

"You owe me a new pair of boots," McKenzie said, cutting her off.

"What?" Sharinta asked, taken aback by the non-sequitur.

McKenzie held up his squelching left boot. "This got a hole blown in it because I had to blow myself up to get around the curse. You nabbed a gold piece off me, used it to buy a necklace, and have not, as yet, repaid me. So: new boots, next decent shoe shop we come to."

Sharinta sighed. "Fucking fine. Whatever."

"Good."

They walked for a few moments, then: "Are you going to try to break it again?" Sharinta asked him. "You nearly did it today: he was worried, and I've never seen him worried. Fucking ever."

"Stick around," McKenzie said, managing a wry smile. "I'll see what I can do."

- o O o -

McKenzie & co return in The Amateur Assassin, which I'll continue posting here soon.