Nicolas ?r??n?d and dragged his bulk painfully onto a nearby chunk of masonry. Pulling himself up, he managed to achieve sitting position, which wasn''t much of an improvement in terms of pain, but at least the view was better.

    Actually, the view was mostly of debris. He couldn''t see the body of that damned Warden though.

    Spitting, Nicolas fumbled about his ruined garments, eventually pulling a tin from the torn remains of his waistcoat pocket. With shaking fingers, he opened it and pulled out a small, tightly wound, for want of a better work, cigarette, which he put to his lips.

    Closing and replacing the tin, he pointed at the end of the roll-up with his finger. Nothing happened. He growled and shook his hand before trying again, this time rewarded with a small flame, with which he lit the smoke.

    Inhaling deeply, he held his breath for a few moments, before exhaling a large cloud of blue fog.

    Only then did he take a better look around.

    The village of Mudrut was about a third gone he reckoned. The bloody Warden was considerably tougher than Nicolas had anticipated, not to mention his poodle, which had turned rather a lot larger and more vicious once hostilities had commenced. Still, he was certain the damned mutt was no longer in one piece. Quite literally. He squinted. Yes, he could see a leg over by the ruins of a small shack, across what was left of the road.

    He hoped the Warden had met a similar fate, but the last he''d seen of him was as he was trying to fight off the hound. Nicolas had summoned several undead Furies, a kind of spirit with a very bad temper, to help him deal with his enemy. Whilst they had managed to eradicate quite a lot of the village, the Warden could have survived.

    Still, even if he had, he was no better off than Nicolas, who had another drag of his joint and took stock.

    His clothes were done for. Burned, cut and torn, much of his body was exposed to the elements. As Nicolas was a very large fellow, this meant that there was a lot on show. Only his cloak, which he wrapped around himself, protected his modesty in any real sense.

    As for the village, well, Mudrut hadn''t been much to look at to begin with, just being a single street with, for the most part, ramshackle dwellings on either side. Now that street was a lot shorter, and the remains of many structures were smoking.

    To make matters worse, Nicolas still hadn''t located his target.

    With some effort he stood up, and walked, rather unevenly, towards the largest undamaged building, which was some kind of inn.

    Trying not to stagger, he pushed his way through the doors, into the main bar area. Inside were several villagers, cowering at the back of the room. A few of them screamed when he entered, and one man threw himself to the floor and scrabbled under a table.

    To the other side, behind a long, sturdy looking bar, stood a much larger woman with long blonde hair. She was holding a staff, although in a way that could be interpreted in a non-menacing, hedging bets kind of manner.

    Ignoring the cowering locals and the apprehensive stare of the giant barmaid, Nicolas made his way to the counter and leaned heavily on it.

    "Drink," he said, simply.

    "What will..." the woman started to say, but he cut her off.

    "Give me a drink!"

    Putting her staff to one side, the giantess reached down under the counter and pulled out a sturdy bottle full of clear liquid. "Scud alright?" she asked.

    Nicolas nodded. "Pour," he said, waving a hand.

    He took another pull on his smoke as she filled as small glass, which she then pushed towards him.

    Smiling, Nicolas snapped his fingers over it, and lit the top of the drink, which burned with a bright blue flame for a moment, before he picked up the glass and knocked it back.

    "Again," he said, putting it back on the counter.

    She just looked at him.

    "I know what Scud is," he said. "I''ve been around for longer than my youthful looks may indicate, and as you may be able to tell from my stout figure, I''m able to handle my liquor. So. Again."

    Trembling slightly, no doubt she''d hoped he would drop to the floor after drinking one glass, she poured another.

    Once that was done, Nicolas spoke again.

    "I don''t suppose you know of a young lad from around these parts, goes by the name of Urt, do you?"

    He could immediately tell he''d hit pay-dirt. Her eyes widened and she stepped back. Something''s gone on here then, he thought.

    "I... I..."

    "Come on lass, I''m not going to hurt you." He repeated his ritual with the drink, and emptied the glass again. This time he didn''t bother asking, but refilled it himself. "What do you know? Where is he?"

    "He... he was here a while ago," she said, twisting her apron in giant fists.

    "And now he''s not?"

    "He went to Groan, so I heard it."

    "Damn." Nicolas banged his fist on the counter top, making her jump. Making himself jump a little too. He wasn''t totally immune to the effects of Scud after all.

    "Fine," he said. Standing upright. "Thank you for the drink. He pulled a coin out of thin air and flipped it at her. If that Warden fellow is still alive, tell him I''ll see him on the other side. And as a necromancer, I mean that."

    Closing his eyes, he summoned the last of his energy and teleported away, leaving Mudrut to its own devices once again.

    ~ * ~

    "Here we are then," Urt said as they finally approached the library.

    "Let''s just hope whatshername is there today," Reginald said. "It could be her day off for all we know."

    "Let''s hope not," replied Urt. He looked at Lucy and held out the backpack with Horace in. "You two should wait here. Give me the clock and go and wait down that alleyway. Try and remain inconspicuous."

    "Yes master," Lucy said, handing him the hard won clock and taking Horace''s bag in exchange.

    "So nice to have an obedient minion," Urt commented as the little zombie wandered off into the alleyway.

    "So, how do we do this?" Reginald asked, looking up at the building.

    "There''s no need for any subterfuge here," Urt said. "Deirdre and I had a deal. A straight swap. The clock for the book."

    "We''ve gone to a lot of trouble for this. Remind me why again?"

    Urt thought of the Hag''s leg and shook his head. "My word is my bond." He looked at the werebeast. "Unlike someone who pledged rabbits," he added.

    "I thought it was a cow now?"

    "It''s going to be a whole flock of cows soon."

    "Herd."

    "What?" Urt asked, as they approached the entrance to the library.

    "Herd of cows."

    "Of course I''ve heard of cows, what are you talking about?" Urt shook his head. "Look, let''s just get the book, get out of the city and then you can stalk cows until, well, until they come home. Honestly."

    Reginald sighed, but shut up as they entered the archway that led into the main lobby.

    They were in luck. Inside, time might well not have moved on from their last visit. There was still no customers, and there, reading a book behind the counter, was Deirdre.

    Urt, followed by Reginald, approached. "Hello there," he said.

    Deirdre glanced at him. "Hello ducky," she replied. "I''m on my break."

    Resisting the impulse to ask how one could be on break first thing in the morning, Urt decided to cut straight to the chase. With a flourish, he produced the clock, setting it down on the counter carefully.

    "Oh!" Deirdre said, "It''s you lot! I didn''t recognise you without your daughter."

    "Daughter?" Urt frowned for a moment. "Oh, you mean Lucy. No, she''s... ah, with her older brother at the moment. This is your clock yesno?"

    "Yes. Oh yes. I won''t ask how you managed to get it," the librarian said, taking the clock in both hands and examining it. "It''s in perfect condition. Thank you." She put the clock down behind the counter somewhere and returned to reading her book.

    Urt stood there. Deirdre continued to read and ignore him.

    "Ahem," he said. "I believe that we had... an arrangement? Your clock in exchange for a certain book?"

    "Oh I couldn''t possibly do that, it''s against the rules," the librarian replied, with a wave of her hand.

    "But you said..."

    "I said," Deirdre said, taking her gaze off her book for a moment to glare at him. "I can''t just give anyone books willy nilly."

    "But we had..."

    "Do I have to call security?" she cut Urt''s protest off.

    "No." Urt stood there for a moment. Strange feelings welling up inside him. "No."