Reginald had observed the exchange without much surprise. It had been his experience that most people didn't keep their word. He was slightly surprised at Urt's obvious shock at this.

"So you're not going to give me the book?" the necromancer repeated.

"No," Deirdre repeated.

"Really?" Urt took a deep breath.

"Look," Reginald said, putting a hand on Urt's arm. "It's not that..."

"No."

The weresheep took a pace back from the look on Urt's face. "No?"

"No. I've had enough." Urt took a step closer to Deirdre. "You said you would give me the book in exchange for the clock. I've delivered the clock. You will give me the book."

Deirdre laughed, which even Reginald, never the top interpreter of body language, took to be bad idea. He moved back a little more.

"You will give me the Lexicon Tormentus now. Or I will be angry."

"You're just a jumped up country bumpkin," the librarian laughed again, showing, in Reginald's eyes, an amazing lack of self preservation.

In reply, Urt raised a hand. Black flame flickered around his fingers. Suddenly Deirdre looked less certain.

"Give. Me. The. Book." The young necromancer stepped forward again and, for the first time since he'd met him, Reginald saw his comrade as someone with the potential to be very, very dangerous.

"Y... Y... okay. It... it's..."

"Get it. Now." Urt wasn't tall, but suddenly he appeared to tower over the woman. His face white as death.

"It's just... just here, under the counter." Deirdre was sobbing now. "Please don't hurt me."

"Give me the book!" Both Reginald and Deirdre were knocked back by the booming power of the Voice.

"Here! Here!" Shaking with terror, the librarian scrabbled about under her counter, throwing tomes left and right as she sorted through a pile, eventually pulling out a surprisingly small book with a dark red cover, which she gave, with a trembling hand, to the dark figure looming over her.

Suddenly Urt was back to his usual self. "There," he said pleasantly. "That wasn't too hard was it?" He looked around. "Come on Reginald."

The were-sheep scrambled after his friend, as he strode out of the library.

"That was awesome!" he said, once he'd caught up. "How the hell did you do that? The whole looming thing, and the voice? To be honest, I've not really taken you all that seriously until now, but that was next level stuff."

"As usual, I have no idea what you're talking about," Urt replied. "Now, come on we need to get Lucy and Horace and then get the hell out of this town. I feel a longing for the countryside."

"Yes boss," Reginald replied, and the two of them trotted off.

~ * ~

The Very Dark Necromancer said nothing. Simply tapped a long, yellow, fingernail on his desk. Nicolas, not someone who was easily scared, tried not to tremble.

"I give you one simple task," the Very Dark Necromancer finally spoke. "And not only do you fail to recover the target, but you destroy an innocent village in the process."

"It was half destroyed, at most," Nicolas felt stung enough to defend himself. "Which frankly, can only have improved the place. If you'd seen..."

"I've seen Mudrut." The senior necromancer slammed a hand on the desk, and then paused. "But yes, you're probably right. The place gives cesspools a bad name."

Nicolas looked askance at his boss, sensing, just possibly, he may yet escape the office alive, or at least in mostly one part.

"I've had a new report. It seems our man is now in Groan."

"The big barmaid indicated that he'd gone off in that direction." Nicolas nodded.

The Very Dark Necromancer looked up at him. "And yet you came here."

Nicolas began to open his mouth to explain he had just come to make a report, but then decided this would be a mistake. With a simple nod of his head he executed a teleport spell he kept for emergencies and vanished.

~ * ~

"Excuse my impertinence Lady Nothing," Bon said. "But..."

"You're wondering why we're wandering round the city walls," Reckless interrupted him.

"Well, yes."

"Because..." Reckless took a deep and frustrated breath. "Because I just... I just know he's nearby somewhere."

"Again, Lady, who is this person to you? We lost some good men fighting the city guard, and no doubt there will be further fallout from that. Is he worth the trouble?"

Reckless whirled around and jabbed her advisor in the chest, causing him, and their escort of two guards, to stop suddenly in the middle of the busy street. "We will find him!" she snarled. "I don't know who he is. I just know he's been in here," she took the finger off him to tap the side of her head, "for most of my life. And now he's actually here here. I need to know... What?"

Bon was looking over her shoulder at the main gate, which they had been approaching.

Spinning round, Reckless's eyes widened. There, riding a rather shabby looking horse, was the boy, followed closely by his were-companion, riding a haggard pony. Trotting alongside was a small figure with a hood drawn over their face.

"It's them!" she screamed, and pointed a slim, and very dangerous, finger at her target.

Usually when she did this, something unpleasant would happen to the object of her attentions. This time however, the boy merely looked startled as part of the wall behind him exploded, showering the area with stone shrapnel.

Her target, struggling to control his panicked horse, located her and shouted something at his companion.

However, the were-boy had fallen off his pony, and was busy trying not to get trampled by it.

"Get him!" shouted Reckless, pointing again at her target. This time a watch soldier guarding the gate tripped over and brained himself on a recently detached chunk of city wall.

"What by Frell*?!" she screamed. Never had her abilities misfired like this.

The two guards were now on their way to intercept. She started to follow them, shrugging off Bon's attempts to hold her back, but then stopped when the boy said something and waved a hand, in what was undoubtedly a spell casting move.

One of the guards screamed and then... melted. His armour collapsed as his remains oozed out of it, spilling into a bloody red and white puddle on the ground. The remaining guard decided against further pursuit, and took off in a less dangerous direction.

Meanwhile the crowd around the gate had twigged they were in the middle of a combat zone, and followed suite, screaming and rushing for cover, knocking Reckless and Bon to one side as the pair tried to go against the urgent tide of humanity.

"Where is he?" Reckless punched a fat merchant ruthlessly in the face as he tried to shove her out of the way, pushing him to the ground and stepping over his gasping form.

"Look out Lady!" Bon said.

She saw, too late, the boy cast another spell, at her this time.

A ball of intense blue fire rushed towards her, only to veer off at the last moment and hit a market stall, which blew up, the force of the explosion knocking her over. She fell on the fat merchant, who cushioned her blow.

"Ha," she said, pulling herself up, ignoring the cries of the unfortunate man as she trod on his head. "Seems our immunity works both ways."

Once again she stepped forward to pursue her quarry. This time though, a shape leaped out of nowhere and knocked her back down, once more landing upon the much abused merchant.

She gasped as the breath was knocked out of her, and looked up at the werewolf boy, who had obviously evaded his pony's hooves. He was now laying on top of her, his face close to hers.

"Get... off... me!" she snarled.

The boy was too heavy and strong though. He looked down at her and smiled.

"You have really beautiful eyes, do you know that?" he said, most unexpectedly. Then he was on his feet and running for the gate, catching up with his friend who had managed to snag the errant pony.

"Stop them!" shouted Bon at the city guard.

The soldiers had seen what had happened to Reckless's guard though, now a puddle on the cobblestones, and leaped out of the way, allowing both boys and their small companion to retreat through the gate and out of the city.

"Are you alright Lady?" Bon's face looked down at Reckless, who was still lying atop the fat merchant, making no attempt to rise.

She looked back at him. "Do I have pretty eyes Bon?" she asked.

*Frell – Goddess of those Blessed, and those Cursed.