Onzanali was cagey about their exact destination - she told the driver to take them to the Artist's Quarter, but nothing more specific. She was equally unforthcoming about anything to do with how Jenata had received his message.

"Listen, Onzanali-"

"Call me Onza. We are on a date, after all," Onzanali interrupted.

"It's not a date," McKenzie told her.

"Spoilsport."

"Sue me," McKenzie said. "Are we going to a meeting with Lady Jenata or not? I ask because if not, there are about fifty eight other more urgent things I should be doing, and I don't mean 'important meeting' urgent, I mean 'people might die' urgent."

"Have a little patience, McKenzie," Onza advised him. "You're in the Artist's Quarter out on a date with a beautiful woman - relax, for the gods' sakes."

"For the fiftieth time, we're not on a date. In related news, someone's got a high opinion of herself."

"Well, I am a cat," Onza said apologetically. "We do tend to hold ourselves in fairly high regard."

"Do you purr as well?" McKenzie asked sarcastically.

"If our date goes well you might find out," Onza replied, grinning.

McKenzie gave up and stared out of the cab. The Artist's Quarter was evidently just that - there were lots of people hawking paintings, small statues, books, scrolls and the materials required to produce them. People playing music, performing dances or drama in the street or just expounding to a group of their fellows seemed to be in greater preponderance than elsewhere in the city. He took his phone out and snapped a few photos, but kept them to himself.

"Clever little device," Onza remarked.

McKenzie turned the lens on her. "Smile," he said. Onza did so, and he showed her the results. She made him take it twice more before she was satisfied that her hair was right and the light showed her cheekbones to their best advantage.

"Yep - definitely a cat," McKenzie concluded.

"Stop here!" Onza called to the driver - then pointedly looked at McKenzie until he paid him. They had come to a halt just past a large, ornate building which declared itself to be The Imperial Playhouse – there was a queue of people waiting to get in, some quite expensively dressed.

"See - a little bit of patience and here we are. It's customary to assist a lady out of a carriage, by the way," Onza said brightly.

McKenzie held his arm out - Onza smiled brightly and accepted his help: he was almost positive she didn't need it.

As McKenzie was beginning to realise was normal in Vyrinios, they were immediately surrounded by people trying to sell them things, play music at them and generally be a pain in the arse for commercial purposes - here were added some local extras: one enthusiast was trying to read poetry at them, and another was trying to make a sketch of them.

Onza, as a lifelong city girl, had a full set of the filters locals seemed to possess: she didn't seem to notice them, and they didn't seem to get in her way. McKenzie didn't have them yet, but thankfully nature had equipped him with incomparable not-giving-a-shit capabilities, so he simply barged past everyone.

"This way. " Onza took McKenzie by the arm and led him firmly towards a blank section of wall. The mob of salespeople, musicians and street-artists followed them for a few paces, and then, responding to some sort of herd instinct, peeled away. McKenzie had an idea why: he could feel magic flowing from the wall, persuading people to ignore it and just walk past - another indicator was that it was the only bit of wall that hadn't been colonised by ranks of pictures and tapestries for sale.

"Close your eyes," Onza said, "and let me guide you."

"I've already sussed that it isn't a real wall, Onza," McKenzie replied.

"Oh," Onza said. "Of course, I forgot. You're a mage."

"Sort of, I suppose," McKenzie shrugged.

"The entrance is right in the middle, there," Onza pointed. "You won't feel anything."

"That'll be a massive improvement on my last experience of going through a wall," McKenzie replied.

McKenzie actually did close his eyes as he walked through, because despite his head telling him that there was no wall there, his eyes seemed to have a direct connection to his legs and they wanted to inch forward, not walk headlong into it. This might not be a date, but he was damned if he was going to look hesitant in front of a pretty girl.

Behind the unwall was an unprepossessing alleyway with an equally unprepossessing wooden door at the end. Onza led him up to it, and knocked. After a few moments it clicked open, and Onza led him through into a windowless torchlit chamber that contained a couple of pale-looking guys, a table with a half finished game of cards arranged on it, two chairs and a very large mirror. The mirror made McKenzie's inner magic detector click like crazy: it probably wasn't too much of an assumption that it was the only other way out of the room.

One of the pale guys - McKenzie wondered if they were vampires or just didn't get out enough - wore a black robe.

"Hi guys," Onza greeted them. They nodded in reply.

"No obvious magic coming off your date, Onzanali," the mage stated after an appraising look at McKenzie.

"I'm not her date," he said wearily.

"He's in denial: can't quite believe his luck, probably," Onza told the mage, as if confiding a secret.

"We'll have to search him anyway. Will that be a problem?" The mage asked Onza.

"Fine by me," she answered.

"I'm actually stood right here, you know. For the record, my answer is 'only if you actually try and do it'," McKenzie replied. He'd already had enough of being talked about and not to.

The mage ignored this. "We'll start with the bag. You - give me the bag."

McKenzie's bag was halfway off his shoulder before he stopped and thought about it.

"No," he told the mage, replacing the strap on his shoulder.

"Give me the bag," the mage repeated.

"Now," the other guard said, also staring at him.

McKenzie found he was actually fighting to keep the thing on his shoulder. He felt in his pocket for the silver-plated knuckledusters.

"You wanna think really fuckin' careful about if you wanna carry on with whatever this is, fellas," McKenzie told them. "'Cos if it doesn't work, you're gonna have one very pissed off nutcase on your hands. Not to mention you're being fucking rude."

The mage nodded, then smiled and stepped to one side: his friend did the same, except he didn't crack his face. "Sorry, sir. Standard procedure - you know how it is. In you go, both of you." As the invitation was spoken there was a spike of magic and the mirror became silvery and opaque.

"Thanks guys," Onza said, stepping toward the mirror. She turned around and held her hand out to McKenzie. "Coming?"

"Yeah." McKenzie took her hand. "It seems to be an afternoon for going through things that aren't necessarily supposed to be gone through, why stop now?"

"Enjoy your date," the mage told him.

"It's not a date. Seriously," McKenzie said, and then Onza pulled them into - and through - the mirror.

It swirled gently as they stepped through, then settled back into a smooth silver rectangle, and, finally, a normal mirror surface.

"It's definitely a date," the mage observed.

"Hmm. Could go either way." The other vampire wobbled his hand doubtfully from side to side.

Onza and McKenzie emerged into a large chamber. The floor was smooth stone, it was dimly lit by a few candles along the walls, and there were a pair of large, imposing looking doors at the far end. McKenzie looked behind him - there was no mirror. They were also completely alone.

"The ways in and the ways out are never the same," Onza informed him.

"Apparently not." McKenzie agreed. "You wanna maybe tell me why your two friends in the last room were being such total wankers? It was like I wasn't even there until they wanted to search my bag."

"Oh, they probably thought you were just a human," Onza replied offhandedly.

McKenzie filed that response away for later consideration. "The party seems kinda sparsely attended," he said.

"I'm sure the other guests will arrive any minute," Onza replied.

On cue, the doors at the far end swung open, and three guys stalked in. They were all dressed in black - one in a black robe, one - a really big guy - in black armour, and another in loose black clothes not entirely unlike those worn by ninjas. The first one snapped his fingers and called blue fire into existence, burning around each of his hands. The second was swinging a huge mace, and the last guy drew a long, curved sword from over his back. There were more figures following them in, but they were all dressed in finery of one kind or another, carried full or half-full glasses and had the general air of people about to pass the time with some entertainment.

McKenzie sighed, and looked at Onza.

"Really?" He asked.

"Really," she nodded. "Think of it as an opportunity to impress me on our first date."

"The whole 'date' schtick isn't getting old for you at all, is it?" McKenzie asked sourly.

"Not even slightly." Onza smiled winsomely.

McKenzie unslung his bag and took off his jacket. "Hold these, will you?"

"Of course. Have fun McKenzie. I'll get you a drink just in case you survive," she replied, and backed away from him.

"Your confidence in me is touching," he said.

McKenzie put his hand over his right shoulder and clicked at it a bit - it still ached from when Statue Guy had put him through the wall. This wasn't going to be fun.

It was also clearly a test and not an actual fight, because the big guy and the ninja hung back while the mage stepped forward by himself. Despite the relative gloom, McKenzie could see he was a really pale bloke. He was maybe a .3 or a .4 on the D-scale: Danandra could have handed him his arse using just the magic in her little finger, McKenzie guessed.

"And you're waiting for what, exactly?" He asked the mage. "Written authorisation?"

The mage's response was to let him have both barrels, or, in this case, hands. McKenzie was blasted off his feet by twin balls of blue fire and slid a few metres across the floor, but came up laughing nonetheless.

"That was just the pick-me-up I was looking for," McKenzie said, sparking. "I am literally buzzing now."

The mage didn't follow this up with another spell, but instead looked over his shoulder. He received a shake of the head from a woman in the crowd: she was equally as ginger as Danandra, but much taller and quite broad across the shoulders. She wore black, and a businesslike expression. Jenata? McKenzie wondered.

This appeared to be the signal for the mage to step back, and that, in turn, was the signal for the big guy to charge. Which he did: with a loud howl.

McKenzie ran to meet him, deciding that he was going to have to get up close to him to take that big mace out of the equation. He'd get a hold on the guy and start punching. What he actually ended up getting a hold on, in the end, was the mace itself: he misjudged his grab for the warrior and grabbed the handle instead, just as the big metal bit caught him firmly in the side with a crushing impact. He had just about enough time to notice that underneath his helmet the guy had a tan before he went flying off towards the wall. He didn't let go of the mace, though: that came with him.

His right shoulder hit the wall first, which hurt massively - but then the mace slammed into his knee and McKenzie realised that the shoulder impact of a few milliseconds earlier had been a golden, pain-free age by comparison. McKenzie gave vent to a very loud, very heartfelt "FUCKING HELL!" and ran back at his adversary - presumably a were of some kind given his strength, probably a wolf given the earlier vocalisation - swinging the mace wildly.

His first swing missed by miles, and the sheer inertia of the damned thing twisted him round in a circle and he nearly fell over. For a big fella in armour, his opponent was quite agile - he swung again and the guy just stepped back out of the way.

"Fine - you have the fucking thing back then," McKenzie said, and tossed it up in the air above his opponent's head.

Big: yes. Quick: yes. Bright?

No. The were-warrior looked up, eyes tracking the mace, hands going up to catch it. McKenzie ducked in towards him, led with his left shoulder and barged into him. With his feet on the solid floor and his shoulder jammed into the guy's chest, McKenzie was able to use the strength which he couldn't effectively utilise swinging the mace: he snapped his legs straight and sent the guy up and backwards. The mace landed on the floor, but the were-warrior went flying through the air towards the assembled guests: they scrambled out of the way as he landed in their midst. Bits of armour scattered everywhere - in particular he lost his helmet: he was blond, his hair close shaved, and he actually looked no older than twenty or so, younger than McKenzie was expecting. The look he turned on McKenzie wasn't angry or even particularly unpleasant: the guy actually smiled wryly in acceptance of the fact that he'd been hoodwinked, then got to his feet. He might've been down but he wasn't out.

"Here," McKenzie picked up the mace and slung it underhand along the floor, where it scraped to a rest right next to the warrior. "Have another go."

The ginger woman, though, was suddenly there next to the warrior: she was quite tall, but next to him she looked tiny. She laid a hand on his arm and shook her head. The man shrugged, picked up his mace, and inclined his head slightly. McKenzie replied with a jaunty salute, and then cast his eyes round looking for the ninja.

There was no ninja to be seen. Well there fucking wouldn't be, would there genius? McKenzie thought.

Without warning: there was a soft rush of air against his cheek, and then a line of pain across the back of his neck. McKenzie swore and lashed out, but didn't connect with anything. He looked left and right- even up - but the ninja was still nowhere to be seen.

This happened twice more in the next minute - McKenzie felt a swordstroke against the back of his head and a stab into the small of his back. He was being tested, he realised, for weaknesses; and McKenzie had recently discovered that he had one. He had the original weak spot, in fact: it was fucking legendary; it'd become a figure of speech. His invisible opponent couldn't know any of this, of course, but as McKenzie yelped and swore as he took a jab into the armpit, he realised that even as unlikely a vulnerability as a heel was going to be tried eventually.

If in doubt, taunt. "Well, you're quite the big hard man, aren't you? I wish I could ponce around in pyjamas sticking people with my wee knife and never having to man up to the fact I might have to get hit back."

His attacker chose to reply via the medium of sword - this time right into McKenzie's throat. He coughed and choked.

There was no way he could've not seen that - the guy must've come at him from dead ahead. He was more than just stealthy, he was basically invisible. How the fuck do you fight someone you can't see?

McKenzie's mind ran a quick search and came up with a well known quote from a very well known film. Fine - if his eyes could deceive him, he wouldn't trust them. McKenzie closed his eyes and listened.

What he discovered was that a room full of people - even when they're being quiet and even when quite a few of them don't even have a heartbeat - make a surprising amount of incidental noise: shuffling their feet, murmuring to each other, coughing, sniffing. It wasn't much but the sudden stabbing pains he accrued on his shoulders and stomach while he was attempting this experiment seemed to indicate that it was enough to cover up the soft footfalls of the ninja.

So that was that idea fucked then. The only thing it had managed to achieve was to demonstrate that McKenzie's magic-detecting sense still worked when he had his eyes closed, and in fact seemed a bit sharper and more directional. He could sense the mage, a few faint pinpoint sources in the crowd, and now he could even sense the Talius-necklace in his jacket, off to one side where Onzanali stood watching him getting his arse kicked. Still: the magical sense wasn't a lot of use right now.

Except that one of the pinpoint sources then darted forward towards him, and a moment later McKenzie felt a sharp impact in his left side.

"Ow!" He said, but he was onto something now and he knew it.

Whatever was making the ninja invisible was magical - a ring, like in the movies? It didn't really matter - McKenzie could sense the point-source moving around to his right, a couple of metres away: lining up for another attack, no doubt.

He stopped himself from turning around to face it, knowing that would give the game away. He was probably only going to get one chance to hit back when his assailant wasn't expecting it.

The magical point-source moved toward him from his right side. When he thought it was quite close, McKenzie struck with his fist. He was rewarded with a sensation of pain as his knuckles scraped something sharp and metallic, but he didn't mind: that meant he'd hit something. His opponent made no noise, but McKenzie could hear him fall over: his sword scraped on the floor.

McKenzie opened his eyes and launched himself towards the floor where he thought the invisible man might be: he got it right, and landed on top of someone, whom he then punched again. He had no idea where.

The produced two results: his attacker gave vent to a high-pitched cry of pain and became visible. There had been a headwear malfunction: lots of long brown hair had escaped. McKenzie realised, with a rush of shame, that he was currently hitting a girl.

"Oh shit!" He scrambled back and up. "Shit! Fuck. Are you OK? I am really sorry, I didn't know you were a girl."

The girl in question - completely unharmed - was not impressed with this. "What the hell has that got to do with anything!" She hissed, flipped herself onto her feet again, and ripped the remains of her headgear away. She had long brown hair and was vampire pale.

McKenzie wasn't sure how to reply to that. "Well, nothing per se, but seriously I am so, so sorry that-"

Ninja-vamp-girl snarled and launched herself at McKenzie's neck. She moved quickly, but in any case McKenzie was too embarrassed to do anything except stagger backward. McKenzie felt twin points of pain over his jugular.

"You done?" He asked, after a moment.

Ninja-vamp-girl disengaged her teeth and examined the complete lack of puncture wounds or blood.

"That's not fair," she said.

"I'm officially calling us even 'cos of that," McKenzie told her.

"Enough!" Another voice announced.

The tall redhead came walking forward. Ninja-vamp-girl picked up her swords and backed away. There was a round of polite applause from the crowd, which McKenzie chose to interpret as approbation for his managing to remain alive.

"Please do accept my most sincere apologies for that, Lord McKenzie. We had to be sure you were who you said you were, I'm afraid. I am Lady Jenata. Welcome to my home." The semicircle of watchers started to mingle and talk, and the lighting suddenly improved tenfold as magical globes appeared.

"Charmed etcetera. Where the fuck've you got my fucking friend?" McKenzie said.

"Lady Danandra is unhurt, if not particularly overjoyed to be a guest of mine. I did invite her along to this little get together, but she declined," the vampire replied. She didn't seem impressed with his tone.

"To be fair, 'not particularly overjoyed' is her default setting anyway," McKenzie told her, moderating the aforementioned tone a bit. Considering the rather difficult welcome he'd just received, pissing these people off overmuch probably wasn't a good idea: unless it came down to a fight anyway, of course. "Can I see her? I've got her glasses and a bit of jewellery of hers."

"I shall be delighted to take you to her. I hope you don't object if we talk shop on the way: I have a proposal for you. Onza dear?" Jenata called. Onzanali had been hovering in the background.

"Yes, Lady Jenata?"

"Would you be so kind as to return Lord McKenzie's effects? I see you have a drink for him already," Jenata said.

"Here you go," Onza said, handing him his bag, coat and a small glass of something pink. "The thing where you tossed Marik's mace up in the air and then shoulder-barged him nearly against the roof was really quite amazingly cool, by the way."

"Thank you, I was quite happy with that myself," McKenzie said.

"This way, if you would, Lord McKenzie. I'm sorry to cut your date short, Onza," Jenata said.

"It's not a-, oh, never mind." McKenzie said.

- o O o -

Lady Jenata's lair appeared to be underground, and was constructed from large blocks of stone to create that convincing castle effect, but apart from that was about as unlairish as you could get. It was clean, devoid of coffins, chains or screaming victims and was as well-lit with magical lights as any street in the centre of Vyrinios.

"It's a short walk, Lord McKenzie, so I'll come right to the point. The new criminal hierarchy in Vyrinios is not very friendly to the likes of me, so my objective is to foment what discord I can. I would like to see them remain isolated and mistrustful of each other," Jenata told him.

"So you can take over?" McKenzie guessed.

"So we can survive," Jenata corrected him. "We're not as strong a force as current city gossip would have it. Most of my people can't even set foot outside in sunlight without turning into a smoking pile of ashes, Lord McKenzie. A united criminal underworld in Vyrinios would spell the end for this new haven of ours."

McKenzie decided this was probably bullshit, but said nothing.

"If Iyanus cannot meet the terms set for him by this new council of criminals, he will have no choice but to go on the offensive. He might be weakened, but Aghkar's old network is still worth any three of the other syndicates. The underworld would be plunged into chaos," Jenata said.

"Ah - that's why you're holding onto Danandra," McKenzie nodded. He could at least follow that chain of logic.

"She will be perfectly safe with us, I can assure you. As will you. My proposal is simply this: that you do nothing. Suspend your vendetta against Iyanus and remain here as our guest for a few days. Let some gang minion or another do the job for you," Jenata said.

"No can do," McKenzie replied. "In fact, know what? I got a counter-proposal for you. Let's do this instead. How about I-"

Jenata stopped, backed away a step or two and adopted a defensive posture. From behind them, Marik the armoured were guy, ninja-vamp-girl and a handful of other armed weres or vampires came running up. They couldn't have been that far behind, but he hadn't heard any of them.

"What is it?" McKenzie asked, also stopping and glancing around. Everyone, it seemed, was confused.

"Oh!" Jenata said brightly. "I do apologise. You do have something of a reputation for sudden violence, you see, and that sounded somewhat like a segue into a threat and possibly an assault."

"No, it's an actual proposal. I have another idea," McKenzie said. "Isn't this how this sort of discussion works?"

"Yes, of course," Jenata said, waving her troops away.

"Am I really honestly that bad?" McKenzie asked, slightly taken aback.

"I'm afraid so, Lord McKenzie," Jenata admitted, also looking, it had to be said, a bit abashed.

"How'd knowledge of my - well, let's call it impulsive nature – get around anyway? It's not like anyone even knows who I am."

"I can assure you that among the people who make it their business to keep track of persons of supernatural interest, you are already quite a celebrity. Nobody knows what you are, you see," Jenata told him.

I'm an ancient greek warrior from the dawn of civilisation on another planet, ap-fucking-parently, McKenzie didn't answer. Instead he said: "Well, if anyone figures it out, I hope they let me know too, because in 400-odd years I haven't figured it out yet."

"I shall pass on anything I hear," Jenata said, although she seemed disappointed to not get an answer. McKenzie knew the feeling. They started walking again.

"Anyway, if we're all feeling a bit less jumpy, here's my idea. You let Danandra go and help me take down the High Assassin, who a little bird tells me you don't like very much anyway, and in return I'll help you with your discord-fomenting between the local mafia kingpins," McKenzie proposed.

"What kind of assistance do you propose to render?" Jenata asked him.

"I do a good line in violence. I don't do assassinations as such but I will cheerfully go and pick a fight with pretty much anyone," McKenzie shrugged. "And I always win. Eventually."

"Then why, might I ask, do you need my help taking on your own guild?" Jenata asked back.

"Din't say guild, said the High Assassin. My beef's with the organ grinder, not the monkeys," McKenzie clarified.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Hmm. Cultural-specific reference, sorry. I have this personal thing going with the High Assassin. If I can get him replaced, which probably equates to dead, then I'll get the result I'm hoping for. It's also a hostage situation, as well – everything's got really complicated in my life over the past forty-eight hours or so. Anyway, I can't do that without dealing with the Guild Hall - by which I mean the actual building, because, well, to cut a long story short-"

"It is possessed by the spirit of the Guild's founder, and exists internally within a magical plane which he can control," Jenata cut in.

"Spot on. How'd you know about that?" McKenzie asked.

"I have not pressed you to reveal your sources, Lord McKenzie. Pray do not press me to reveal mine."

"Yeah, well, without pressing, do you know how someone could work around it long enough to go in, grab someone, and get out?" McKenzie asked.

"If such a hypothetical person was also willing to grab two someones and bring the second one here, then yes, I think I might be able to put my hands on something that would do the trick," Jenata replied.

"Lemme guess, you want Bladehand extracted and brought here?"

"Correct, Lord McKenzie."

"Okay. Can do. This is starting to sound like we got a deal, Lady J," McKenzie commented.

"Almost. I'll be taking rather a significant risk, Lord McKenzie: you're asking me to give up my sole bargaining piece in exchange for nothing except a promise of aid. In consideration of this fact, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you for a small surety of good faith," Jenata replied.

"Oh-kay," McKenzie replied. "Don't actually know what that means. I'm not an actual Lord, that's just more sort of a nickname I picked up in Melindron."

Jenata smiled. She had quite a stern, critical look to her, normally - when she smiled she looked a bit more like a kindly schoolmistress, and McKenzie started to think that maybe all of this wasn't just a lead-up to a double cross. Then again: vampire.

"Let us be honest: neither of us has any particular reason to trust the other. If I let you walk out of here with Lady Danandra and you decide not to honour the terms of the proposed agreement, then I have lost everything and gain nothing. To offset this risk, I would like you to perform a couple of minor 'discord-fomenting' services before I release Lady Danandra. A small advance payment, if you will," Jenata explained.

"Right. Got it. Who needs a kicking, then?" McKenzie asked.

"Anything and anyone you find in two addresses that I will provide - establishments belonging to Iyanus' rivals. It is critical that the attacks be carried out in daylight and only with weapons which would be available to the ordinary sort of gang soldier: blades, bows, run-of-the-mill battle magic. You will not, I'm afraid, be able to make use of whatever fascinating devices it is that you carry in your bag and on your belt, and any major usages of the fifth element will also invalidate our contract," Jenata explained.

"I'm told it also breaks minor things like the space-time continuum, so you can rest assured on that score," McKenzie stated.

"Good. It has to appear that Iyanus is behind one of the attacks," Jenata said, coming to a stop by an iron door and pulling out a key.

"I hate subtle," McKenzie complained.

"Do try and make an exception this once," Jenata requested. "Additionally, you'll need to leave something at each target. A little bit of evidence, to lend weight to the illusion."

"And what would that be?"

In answer, Lady Jenata unlocked the door and pushed it inwards to reveal a cell. Inside, bound, gagged, wrapped in very familiar-looking nets, clearly petrified and watched over by a vampire guard were a couple of mages that seemed vaguely familiar to McKenzie. He didn't have to search his memory for long.

"Two of netfuck's mates," he said, affecting a breezy unconcern for their situation which he didn't really feel. "Where's their guv?"

"In several pieces in the sewers - in all probability already eaten by rats, goblins and anything else that subsists on the detritus of Vyrinios. I have no time for turncoats," Jenata told him.

"Yeah yeah, point taken," McKenzie sniffed. "You're not to be fucked with, I get it."

"I meant no such imputation," Jenata said, "but nevertheless your statement is not incorrect."

"I figured. So it's what, go in, create chaos, stab one of these fuckers and leave them under a pile of corpses?"

One of the mages gave vent to a shrill mmmmmphph noise.

"You won't have to do the deed yourself: it's not in my nature to be merciful with those I consider to be traitors, but I can respect the fact that you're a warrior and not - recent professional developments notwithstanding - an assassin. I'll send someone along with you to take care of it. You need only concern yourself with creating chaos, as you put it," Jenata said.

McKenzie had a hard time caring right then, but he had enough self-knowledge to know that later on it'd be a lot easier to convince himself that he was just doing what he had to do if someone else was holding the knife that killed two helpless captives.

"Suits me," he said. "I doubt society will be a great deal poorer for their loss. What about the second job?"

"You can pick something up from the first job and take it along to the second," Jenata shrugged, closing the door again.

Ugh, McKenzie thought. "Fair dos," was what he said.

"Do we have an accord, then, Lord McKenzie?" Jenata asked him.

"You got a deal. Two violent events and then you let Danandra go and provide me with a means to get into and out of the assassin's haunted house without getting lost in an infinite maze. I bring Bladehand out, who presumably I then deliver here. After which I promise to continue to assist with your ongoing efforts to keep the Vyrinios underworld dangerous, unpredictable and paranoid," McKenzie summed up.

"Yes. Which efforts will, I can assure you, directly contribute to the demise of Iyanus," Jenata said.

"Put it there, Lady J." McKenzie held his hand out. Jenata shook it: her hand was, unsurprisingly, cold. "Could I see Danandra now? She'll be wanting her glasses," McKenzie said.

"Certainly - this way," Jenata said. She led McKenzie a few more metres down the hallway to another iron door: this one had two guards outside. She nodded at one of them, who stood up with a quick, precise movement that McKenzie was starting to identify as typical of vampires - they all seemed to have total, 100% economy of motion. He unlocked the door.

"Lady Danandra? Good evening. There is a visitor for you," Jenata said.

McKenzie looked into the room. "Hey Danandra. You okay?"

"McKenzie!" Danandra yelped. She had been sitting in a chair across the cell, but had leapt to her feet and was squinting in his direction. "Do NOT come in here! Back away from the door now!"

"Thanks - nice to see you too," McKenzie said.

"This is a thaumically null environment. Remember what happened at the college? If you set foot in this room, the results will be ten times worse. It's beyond me how you're still alive after that, if you were to come in here, it's not unlikely the resulting explosion would destroy a large area of the city," Danandra said.

McKenzie remembered that Talius had warned him about this. "I'm getting the feeling that I should stay in the corridor," he said.

"Yes: you should definitely stay in the corridor," Danandra affirmed.

"Well then. Let's take that from the top. Hey Danandra, you okay?" McKenzie asked.

"I am unhurt," Danandra replied. "Who is with you?"

"Lady J, guards, and like a battalion of vampires and weres down the corridor in case I go damsel-rescuey all of a sudden. That ain't gonna be necessary, though, 'cos I've cut a deal with Lady J. Got a couple of small jobs to do, and then you can walk out of here. In the meantime, sit tight. I'll be back. Oh, wait, I've got your glasses here and that necklace you're always wearing," McKenzie said, simultaneously proud of himself for not making it obvious what he'd told her, and worrying that he hadn't been obvious enough.

Danandra was good - she didn't even blink. "Thank you, McKenzie. Lady Jenata, would you be so good as to hand me my glasses and my necklace?"

Jenata didn't hesitate - the mage at the door had already given McKenzie the once-over for magical devices. She took the glasses and necklace from McKenzie and held them out for Danandra to take. Danandra put both items on. McKenzie was internally braced for something magical to happen, but nothing did.

Danandra blinked and looked at McKenzie and Jenata. "Thank you. Now, McKenzie, since we're apparently among friends, what the hell is happening and what Arrangement have you come to with Lady Jenata?"

"Was that a capital A? I'm not an assassin, Danandra, I don't do capital-A Arrangements," McKenzie sighed.

"You are an assassin, you've got the ring and presumably a dramatic name," Danandra insisted.

"Technicalities, and I had the name already. Never liked it. Anyshit, I've cut a deal that gives me and Lady J here something we both want, that's all. And gets your ginger arse out of here without the need for any unpleasantness, by the way," McKenzie said.

"And yet I still seem to be in a cell," Danandra pointed out acidly. "Your negotiation skills are as formidable as I expected they would be. Or is the word dreaded?"

Jenata coughed. "Before you two launch into a fond reunion, allow me to once again extend my offer of parole. You are in no danger here and I have no wish to keep you imprisoned, Lady Danandra. Simply give your word on your powers that you will not attempt to hurt anyone, interfere with our plans or leave my house until the terms of this very-much-lower-case-a arrangement have been met and I should be delighted to provide you with the freedom of these halls and more congenial accommodation," Jenata said.

Danandra opened her mouth to respond with a refusal, but then paused. Her hand went to the necklace, and then, after a moment, she replied. "I would like to accept: on the proviso that if I am offered insult, harm or in any way coerced to do something against my will then I am instantly released from the oath."

"Since it would be unthinkable for me to allow such hideous treatment of a guest in any case, I am delighted to give my word - and accept yours - under those terms," Lady Jenata replied.

"Then you have my word upon my powers that I will do as you say," Danandra told her.

"It's all gone a bit Jane Austen in here," McKenzie commented. Nobody asked him what he meant.

"And you have mine," Jenata replied.

"Very well, Lady Jenata," Danandra said, hesitated, looked as if she was having an argument with herself for a moment, and then spoke: "Honour compels me to remind you that such an oath sworn within a null-magic field would be meaningless."

"I know, dear - it's been turned off for the last ten minutes. Lord McKenzie has somewhat of a reputation - we couldn't risk him blundering in and turning everyone within five miles into a smouldering pile of ash." Lady Jenata smiled. "Your honesty does you credit, however."

Danandra glowered, but stepped out of her cell.

McKenzie laughed. "Hah! You've got some front, Lady J, I'll give you that."

"McKenzie!" Danandra objected.

"What? Oh, give over, it's not like you tried to get away with it anyway," McKenzie said exasperatedly, and then, on a whim, waved his hand experimentally through the doorway. Everyone went very still and wide eyed.

"McKenzie!" Danandra snapped at him.

"I'm just seeing if it really is switched off," he replied innocently.

"Find a safer method of testing it than 'see if the city blows up', then!" Danandra told him.

McKenzie pulled his arm back. Everyone breathed out - even those currently present who didn't ordinarily breathe.

"Shall we return to the party?" Lady Jenata asked. "I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

McKenzie examined his glass, which was now empty of alcoholic pink stuff. "Yeah, why not."

"I know I could do with a drink," Danandra said.

- o O o -

"You can talk now," Danandra said. Lady Jenata seemed happy enough with the current arrangements to leave them unguarded in a corner, but Danandra had insisted on using a spell to ensure their privacy. It seemed to discourage people from coming too close: they were alone, despite there being two tables and several chairs nearby.

"Well, after I turned up at the college-" McKenzie started.

"Talius has already told me what transpired there. You're lucky to be alive," Danandra said.

"Meh – it was hardly pleasant but I've honestly been blown up worse. You can talk to him in that thing?" McKenzie indicated the necklace with his drink. He'd opted for a beer of the same kind he'd bought at The Snow Leopard. Danandra , despite her earlier statement, was drinking water.

"Don't point at it!" She hissed.

"Fine. I won't. Can he hear me? You alright in there Tal?" McKenzie asked, raising his voice.

"He can't hear you - only the wearer can," Danandra replied. "If you were to touch this necklace, by the way, the results could be very unpredictable. It could result in a terrifying, powerful explosion of-"

"He already warned me about that - you better stop before you get carried away again," McKenzie said. "What hasn't he told you?"

"Did you find Sharinta?" Danandra asked.

"Yes and no," McKenzie replied. "I found Cally."

"Oh. That's going to complicate things," Danandra replied.

"So everyone keeps saying." McKenzie took a drink. "She's, well, basically she's being held at the Unsheathed Dagger. The assassin who recruited me is being held prisoner in the guild hall as leverage over me - I'm supposed to find you and Shar and give you to Leni and this Iyanus twat, I think you can guess why."

"Fine. Take me to her. I'll burn her to a crisp and spit on the ashes," Danandra said, with particular relish.

"Don't you think if it was that simple I wouldn't have sorted this already?" McKenzie asked. "Lemme fucking finish, willya?"

Danandra nodded.

"Anyway, the assassin - name of Nightwing - is a particular friend of Madam Listra, who runs the Dagger. Listra's holding onto Cally, and will hand her over to me when I bring her friend back," McKenzie explained. He decided against telling Danandra that she, too, was from Earth and several thousand years old. Nobody knew except him - he was happy for it to stay that way.

Danandra snorted. "It's regrettable, but we're talking about an assassin here. She can look after herself. You should have taken Cally out of there."

"I promised not to, and anyway where was I gonna take her exactly? She was out cold, and this was before I spoke to Heska on your mirror thing and found out we could go to the Melindronian embassy. All our stuff's there now, by the way," McKenzie said. "Oh, also Xixaxa is looking into the curse thing. Which isn't broken."

"Wait, what?" Danandra nearly dropped her glass.

"Yeah, I went back to Aghkar's - figured if I take out the clients then, y'know, this deal collapses, Nightwing goes free, hence Cally goes free, problem solved. I've got Leni bang to rights-" McKenzie made his hand into a gun and pointed it at the wall, "-but can I pull the trigger? Can I fuck." McKenzie sniffed. "Fucking curse."

"Oh, shit," Danandra said. "Did you tell Heska this?"

"Didn't know at that point. I spoke to her before this," McKenzie explained.

"We must find a way to let her know," Danandra said.

"I can drop in at the embassy on my way to my first job," McKenzie said.

"Which is doing what, exactly?" Danandra asked.

"The usual - kill a bunch of people for no fucking good reason," McKenzie sighed.

"Who?"

"Rival gangsters," McKenzie explained. "Two different sets. I go in, fuck a couple of places up, one of Jenata's people leaves some evidence to implicate Iyanus' crew, and, by the sounds of it, some other mug's crew too. It gets done in daylight to give the right impression," McKenzie said.

"That's all?" Danandra asked.

"No, that's just like a sure tea of good faith or something. That lets you walk out of here," McKenzie said.

"If Jenata holds to her bargain," Danandra said.

"Well, if she don't, she's gonna have to deal with not one but two very pissed off, badass motherfucking mages," McKenzie said. "One of whom, by the way, is a little bit scary."

"I do my best," Danandra commented, with a smile.

"Not you. Don't get me wrong, Danandra, I've seen you do some terrifying stuff. It's impressive - but you wouldn't believe how Talius went about getting information from one of those mages in the college. The guy was dead," McKenzie shuddered.

Danandra nodded. "Talius has been honest with me. He has a past, to be sure, but then again so do I. A certain skill with the dead will also be extremely useful if my current refuge turns out to be more of a trap."

"Well apart from the one instance of reanimating the dead he seems like a nice enough bloke. Bit sarcastic, mind." McKenzie took a drink.

"You're hardly one to talk," Danandra told him.

"Granted." McKenzie made a gesture of acceptance with the beer bottle.

"What happens after my release?" Danandra asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, we were talking about that. The Assassin's Guild Hall is a bit weird. It's alive, and all the rooms inside move about whenever the old dead assassin who infests the place wants them to. I'm reliably assured that he could get me lost in there for years. Jenata is going to give me some unspecified thing or spell or whatever that'll let me get in, get Jadhara, get the High Assassin that Jenata wants a word with, and get the fuck out. We deliver Jadhara to the Dagger, get Cally, you two go to the Melindronian Embassy. As for me, I've promised to help Jenata do more to basically create a criminal war in Vyrinios. Way I figure it, if I can't go after Leni direct, I can at least put her in the middle of enough violence that someone is gonna take her out for me. And who knows, maybe Xixaxa will figure out how to break the last bits of this poxy curse in the meantime and I will be able to shoot the horrible green bitch," McKenzie explained, then took another drink.

"I see," Danandra said.

"So what's the deal with Talius?" McKenzie asked.

"There is no deal. He's helping me because we're-" Danandra hesitated.

"Shagging," McKenzie supplied.

Danandra blushed, then immediately got angry. "How do you know it's even got that far?" She demanded. "Has he told you?"

"No, he hasn't, but no bloke is going to go to the lengths Tal has unless the lady in question has already given up the goods and he was very much into it." McKenzie smirked.

Danandra huffed, then narrowed her eyes. "I seem to remember you going to some fairly significant lengths for Anaharra, and as far as I'm aware you two had done nothing more intimate than exchange one brief kiss."

"How do you know that-? Actually, never mind. Can we just not talk about it?" McKenzie asked.

"Well, don't speculate about my relationships, then," Danandra said.

"Deal."

"Someone is looking to join the conversation, by the way," Danandra said. "Tall Izmodeian girl, offensively beautiful, long black hair, probably a were of some kind. She's been staring at us for the past couple of minutes."

"She's a leopard," McKenzie said. "A snow leopard. Her brother's an assassin, was sympathetic towards me 'cos Makrak-"

"Mahrak," Danandra corrected hun.

"Fine, Mahrak killed his brother and he's got no love for the current High Assassin. Lucky chance she had contacts here, otherwise we'd've never found you."

Danandra snorted. "You really don't do subtle, do you? Doesn't that strike you as just a little bit convenient?"

McKenzie stopped and thought. "Yeah, now you mention it."

"You're hopeless." Danandra shook her head. "This helpful assassin of yours is probably Jenata's inside man in the guild, knowingly or not. If he's as Izmodeian as his sister appears to be, then yes, maybe Mahrak did kill his brother, but it sounds very much like you've been carefully steered towards her, and thence to Jenata."

"Well, let's ask her, shall we? Bring the anti-eavesdropping voodoo down," McKenzie said.

Danandra snapped her fingers, and the sounds of music and conversation were suddenly audible again. McKenzie turned around - Onza was indeed looking at them. McKenzie gave her a friendly wave, and she headed over.

"Some date - so far all you've done is get into a fight and then spent your time with another woman," Onza said.

"That's the last date joke you get to make. Seriously," McKenzie said.

"Oh, fine," the wereleopardess replied.

"Good," McKenzie said. "Onzanali, Danandra. Danandra, Onzanali."

"A pleasure," Danandra said. "Please sit down."

"Thank you," Onza said, sitting down. "I'm glad that you're not in a cell anymore. We're not like that here, really."

"You'll forgive me if my experience here so far runs contrary to your assertion," Danandra replied.

"I can see how you wouldn't believe me," Onza admitted. "Lady Jenata has asked me to stay here for a couple of days to, well, sort of be your ladies' maid, frankly. Anything you want, let me know."

"Thank you," Danandra said.

"Who's gonna look after your pub?" McKenzie asked.

"It'll be okay for a couple of days," Onza replied, then addressed Danandra. "And I promise you will be too, Lady Danandra. We have to be kind of ruthless sometimes - it's not easy getting by in a world full of people who think you should be destroyed - but Lady Jenata has given her word and everyone here will abide by it."

"Just 'Danandra' will be fine, Onzanali," Danandra said. "I'm not a lady."

"Lady Jenata says you're a Lady in Melindron," Onza countered. "And that he's a Lord."

"It's like a courtesy thing only," McKenzie said.

"In your case, yes, I figured," Onza told him. Danandra laughed.

"Charming. So anyway, I'm kinda keen to get on. It's what, seven bells maybe?" McKenzie glanced at his watch. "There's gotta be a bit of daylight left."

"Probably not enough," Onza replied. "We've prepared guest quarters for you - for both of you, in fact. Lady Jenata suggests that we meet in an hour to discuss details for tomorrow's excursions."

"Excursions? Blimey. It's a violent attack on a couple of casinos or drug dens or something, not a bloody coach trip for the over 70s," McKenzie snorted with laughter.

Onza had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. "She likes to refer to things in civilised ways. You've met her, you know how she talks," she said.

"She'd fit right in where I'm from," McKenzie said. "It'd probably get referred to as 'covert intervention' or something."

"I'll suggest that."

"I didn't say it was a good thing," McKenzie replied.

"It's probably a good thing for vampires and weres to talk in such terms, though," Danandra interjected.

"Really?" McKenzie asked. "Why?"

Danandra sighed. Onza looked uncomfortable.

"Because they're predators, McKenzie. Too much talk of violence and blood spraying all over the place in the heat of frenzied battle is likely to excite them," Danandra said.

"What, like with you and ma-" McKenzie started to ask.

Danandra cut him off quickly. "I mean no offence, Onzanali."

"None taken. She's right. It would," Onza replied, and indeed when Danandra spoke she had seemed to flush slightly.

"Okay. I'll go with the polite euphemisms, instead," McKenzie said.

"That would be wise," Danandra stated.

Onza stood up. "Just let someone know when you're ready to go to your rooms. We've had some food put there for you."

"This party isn't catered?" McKenzie asked, semi-seriously.

Onza turned to him and smiled wickedly. "Dinner hasn't been served yet, but, well, let's just say it won't be anything you'll want to eat. I'd advise you to securely lock your doors," she said, and left.

"I get the feeling that we don't wanna be around when the dinner bell rings," McKenzie told Danandra.

"Absolutely," Danandra agreed hurriedly.

McKenzie had never finished a drink so quickly in his life.