They arrived, slightly out of breath, to a raucous lodgings. It seemed that the main eating space also doubled as a drinking area in the late hours. Urt and Reginald had to push their way through a crowd of drunken and, as it turned out, very smelly, revellers.

    "It must be someone''s birthday," Reginald commented, as he squeezed by a very fat man with a huge beard.

    "Never mind, we need to get upstairs and see if the zom... Lucy and Horace are there," Urt shouted over the din. "Excuse me sir," he said, pushing a thin drunken chap carelessly out of the way.

    Eventually they made it to the stairs, which were a bit quieter, thus enabling them to hear the shouting from above.

    Reginald and Urt exchanged glances and increased their pace.

    Out of breath, they finally made it to their room, to find the innkeep screeching through their door, which was firmly closed.

    "You let ''im go, you ''ere me?" She kicked the door. "I''ll calls the militia I will!" she added, pounding on the door with meaty fists.

    Composing himself, Urt stepped forward.

    "May I ask what is happening here?"

    "He''s an ''ostage," the woman said, still staring at the door. "It''s not fair, ''e''s an innocent fellah, just doin'' ''is job."

    "Who is?" Reginald asked.

    "Bob!" The woman finally looked around, and suddenly registered who she was talking to. "Yous!" she shouted, pointing a stained finger at them. "Yous ran off yous did!"

    "I ?ssure you madam, we did no such thing," Urt replied. "We were simply... delayed in a business dealing."

    "And that poor lass in there, she''s your slave or summat! She calls you master! "I don''t ''old with slavery, not being rich enough to ''ave me own."

    "I ?ssure you that isn''t at all..."

    Urt''s counter-argument was interrupted by Lucy, who opened the door and peered out. "Master?" she said.

    "...true. Well, it''s a joke name." Urt grinned nervously. "Get her!"

    The innkeeper shrieked and fought and bit, but between the three of them they eventually managed to bundle her into their room, which was already crowded with a large unconscious fellow, dressed in an apron that looked like it had been used go clean a stable, lying on the floor.

    Lucy wrestled the innkeeper to the ground and sat on her, whilst Reginald risked his fingers, and their captive''s health, by stuffing some of the bedding in her mouth to muffle her shrieks.

    "Thank Dreg you''re back!" said a familiar, if muffled, voice from across the room.

    Urt looked over, and saw his backpack on the windowsill. "Hello Horace," he said. "Do you have the clock?"

    "Oh, we''re well, thanks for asking," came the zombie-head''s reply. "I''m sure you were worried sick about us."

    "You''re dead already, what''s there to worry about?" Urt asked, striding over and pulling the head out of the bag.

    There was a screech, and the landlady slumped back, suddenly still, as the undead head came into view.

    "Look what you did," Reginald said, grinning.

    "The clock, master," Lucy said, indicating the item stolen from Bethany the Blue''s house a day and a million years earlier. It was sitting safely under one of the beds.

    "Thank goodness, if we''d done all this for nothing..." Urt let the sentence dangle.

    "So, what now then?" asked Reginald, slumping down on one of the ramshackle beds. "Can we rest here for a bit? I''m beat."

    Urt nodded, and sat down on the other bunk. He suddenly felt very weary himself. "We need to hide out until we can get to the library, swap the clock for the book, and then get out of here." He looked at the two captives. "Who''s the big guy?" he asked.

    "Bob," Horace replied. "When you didn''t reply, she sent him up here to evict us. We overpowered him."

    "We?" Urt raised an eyebrow.

    "I directed."

    "Mmm. Well, better tie him up a bit better, in case he wakes up. And keep an eye on him. In the meantime I''ll just take a five minute nap." He looked over at the were-sheep, but Reginald was already snoring on the bed. "Just five minutes," he repeated, slumping over. "Just..."

    ~ * ~

    "We believe this is where they are Lady Nothing," Bon said, as the pulled up outside the building. Their retinue halted alongside them, and several men spread out to secure the perimeter and whatever else well trained guards did in this sort of situation.

    Reckless looked up at the swaying structure and then raised one leg over the saddle and slid easily off her horse, landing with the grace of a particularly focused cat. One of the men automatically trotted up and took hold of the beast''s reigns.

    "Why would such a powerful wizard stay in this dump?" she asked.

    Bon, climbing more sedately off his own horse, shook his head. "I don''t know my lady. One ?ssumes he is hiding from someone. If he actually is inside of course. Our mage can only detect the were-beast, not our target.

    "He must be warded, but why not hide his companion too?" Reckless mused. "Hello, what have we here?"

    They turned to see another group of men, some on horses, some not, approach. They wore the garb of the city guards, and were following a tall woman in flowing robes riding a white mare.

    "This is either a coincidence, which I don''t believe in, or we may be in for a spot of bother." Bon looked over at his captain and made a signal with his hand. The man, a grizzled mercenary in studded leather armour, nodded and moved off to one side.

    The leader of the new group drew her own horse up and looked down at them. Definitely down at them, Bon decided. Her eyes eventually alighted on Reckless, who was scowling, before moving on to settle on Bon, whom she addressed.

    "I am Bethany the Blue," she stated. "Groan ruling council member and Mage of the Order of Ice. I am here looking for a fugitive. You will stand aside whilst I go about my business."

    Bon winced internally and moved to stay Reckless''s inevitable outburst. "Good morning your wizardship," he said, giving a very slight bow. "Lady Nothing is attending to a private matter, and appreciates your patience while she competes her business, which should take but a short time." Out of the corner of his eye he could see his guards subtly readying their weapons.

    Bethany the Blue shifted her gaze then to Reckless, who was now glaring at her. Bon raised an eyebrow at the mage''s sang-froid. Reckless had a reputation, a well deserved one, and not many were strong, or brave enough, to test it out. Then again, the councillor was a wizard. How powerful he didn''t know, not being familiar with Bethany the Blue, but then his path didn''t often cross with the rulers of the city.

    "City business comes before private citizen''s business I''m afraid," the mounted mage replied calmly.

    So much for a peaceful morning then, thought Bon. His hand drifted down to rest on the pommel of his own short sword.

    "He told you who I am," Reckless said. "I suggest you wait for us. We won''t be long."

    "And I told you who I am," Bethany replied, speaking more forcefully than before. "You will stand aside."

    "Or what?" Reckless folder her arms.

    "Or I shall make you." The wizard replied, holding up a hand, around which green flame suddenly licked.

    Bon closed his eyes.