Lady Blue rubbed at her hand, which itched after she''d healed a scratch on it following her fight with the bitch they called Lady Nothing.

    After the encounter, Bethany had done some digging in the council records, as well as some subtle queries amongst her peers, both magical and otherwise. She had discovered that Lady Nothing was, essentially, left alone by the ruling council, mainly because she had some kind of inbuilt, incredibly dangerous, feral magic. There were several theories on how she could be beaten, if push came to shove, but frankly there had never been a reason to take such a move, which was not considered to be without risk.

    As for her background, no one was really sure where she''d come from. Bethany had traced records that mentioned her back about fifteen years, but that didn''t mean she hadn''t been in the city longer. The source of her wealth, which was rumoured to considerable, was also much speculated upon. As a by product, it also allowed her to hire the very best mercenaries, which was, prudent thinking went, another reason for leaving her well alone. This would also explain why the city guards had been fairly well trounced by Nothing''s forces in Bethany''s small battle.

    She scowled, and picked up a piece of recently delivered parchment from one of her agents. It held a terse and somewhat confused report about a disturbance near the south gate of the city. Apparently Lady Nothing had had another skirmish, with a small group of unidentified wizards. This time she''d not faired so well, although, sadly in Bethany''s eyes, she''d survived without injury.

    Resolving to put more surveillance on the woman, the mage suddenly became alert, as her protective wards sprang up. She retreated to a better defensive position and readied a spell.

    There was a movement next to her coffee table, and then the explosion of air that usually heralded someone teleporting in.

    "Hold!" she commanded, to the large figure that was now standing in the middle of her living room. "Who the hell are you and what do you want?"

    The mage, he was obviously a mage given his robes and aura, looked around, unperturbed at the green fire flickering around her raised hands.

    The man was rotund in the extreme, although well groomed, and sporting a goatee moustache and beard that people of his large size use to help conceal double chins.

    He bowed slightly. "I apologise for the unannounced visit," he said in a smooth tone. "To be honest, I was aiming to land outside, and then knock on the door in a more conventional, and less alarming, manner. My name is Nicolas, and, from what I understand, we may be able to help each other.

    Bethany narrowed her eyes. "Help how?"

    "I understand you have a grievance with a young necromancer. I would like to ?ssist in his capture. I bring considerable resources to the table."

    "I''m listening," said Bethany.

    "Here, this is it." Urt and his small, weary, group pulled up outside the Hag''s residence. They''d managed to make it before nightfall, which was a relief to Urt. He had come to the conclusion he didn''t enjoy sleeping outdoors. That said, there was no guarantee the Hag would offer shelter for the night.

    "Come on," he said. Dismounting, they made their way along the small, muddy path to the door, which he hammered on.

    "Ooo''s there?" came a familiar voice.

    "It''s Urt."

    "Ooo?"

    "Urt? You sent me to get the book, remember?"

    There was a pause, and then the door was opened. Beyond, exactly as he remembered her, stood the Hag.

    "She''s young! She can''t be a Hag," said Reginald.

    "And yoo''s not a boy," the Hag replied. She sniffed at him. "Me''be ''alf boy." She directed her attention back to Urt, who smiled in what he hoped was a charming manner.

    "I''ve brought the book, as per our deal," he repeated. He held out the hard won prize.

    "Aye. See''s that, ah doos." The Hag didn''t take the book but looked at him closely, examining him up and down until Urt began to feel a little uncomfortable. Her eyes were a piercing green and appeared to be looking right through him.

    "Ah, perhaps we could come in? We''ve travelled a long way to get to you, and could use a rest."

    "Yoo''s can comes in," she replied. "The ''alf boy and dead ''uns stays oot. Tell ''ems goos ''roond back, there''s be somewheres theys cans stays. Readies it ah ''as. Some room fer the ''orses too."

    Urt looked at Reginald and shrugged. "You heard her," he said.

    "I heard her, but I didn''t understand her," Reginald replied.

    "There''s somewhere for you to stay around the back. I''m sure you''ll be very comfortable. Horace, Lucy, go and get the horses will you?"

    "Yes boss," Horace replied cheerfully. Lucy merely nodded.

    Urt made a gesture at Reginald, who hadn''t moved. "Well, off you go then."

    "Bah," the were-sheep said, but trudged off round the side of the small building, giving Urt a dirty look.

    The Hag''s home hadn''t changed since the last time he''d visited. The enormous cauldron was still dangling over a low fire, and the rest of the room was cluttered with things Urt decided not to examine too closely.

    "Well..." he started to say, but was interrupted as the Hag threw herself forward at him. Wrapping her arms around his body she proceeded to give Urt a remarkably passionate kiss which Urt, after only a second''s hesitation, magnanimously decided to go along with.

    "Ah''s waited fer yoos to come backs," the Hag explained, pulling him towards the corner of the hut, where a furry sleeping mat was waiting.

    "I don''t understand..." Urt started to say.

    "Yoos don''t ''ave ter. T''is time fer mah payment." The Hag pulled at his cloak, trying to undo the catch.

    Deciding to attempt to understand things later, he dropped the book and helped her.

    ~ * ~

    Urt awoke to the smell of cooking and the sound of humming.

    He stretched luxuriously. The sleeping furs had been surprisingly comfortable and warm, although a large portion of the night had not involved sleeping. It had involved definitely not sleeping very much indeed, and Urt had learned a good deal about human anatomy, or Hag anatomy at least. Overall, he reflected, it had probably been the most enjoyable night he''d ever had. He could understand why people raved about this sort of thing now.

    He looked around. The Hag was dressed in her furs again, to his disappointment, and busy stirring at her cauldron. She saw him looking, and gave him a brief, un-Hag-like smile. "Yoos needs to get oop," she said, before returning to her cooking.

    Groaning, Urt started to recover his clothing, which was laying scattered where it had been frantically discarded the previous evening. As he dressed, the Hag located a wooden bowl from somewhere and ladled some of the cauldron''s contents into it.

    She walked over and put it, and a spoon, next to him. "Eat," she instructed, and padded off to do some unidentifiable task at a table set against the far wall.

    Pulling on the remainder of his clothes, Urt saw he still had the book that had taken so much work to recover.

    "I''ll leave the Lexicon on your bed shall I?" he asked, picking up the bowl and examining the contents. It was full of some kind of stew. No eyeballs or other off-putting parts seem to be involved, so he picked up the spoon as well.

    "Yoos keep the book. Meb'' yoos ''ll needs it. Ah''s gots me payment." She smiled.

    "Payment?" asked Urt, taking a cautious taste of his broth. It was actually very good. He took a larger spoonful.

    "Aye," she replied. "Next Hag ''ll ''ave to be right powerf''l. Fer what she''ll ''ave ter face. Needed someone wih powerf''l magic in ''em."

    Urt was only half listening, and didn''t understand, but nodded anyway. "Well, I''m really happy to be able to help," he said. He looked down at his bowl for a moment. "Er, I was thinking, maybe, after I''ve done with my business, I could come back. We could, er..."

    The Hag looked at him for a moment, then padded back over and kneeled by his side. With a surprisingly tender touch, she stroked his face. "Yoos a sweet ''un," she said. "But we''s not meant ter be. Fun as it was, won''t be ''appening agin." She looked at him for another second, and then frowned.

    "Oh," said Urt, feeling foolish. Then, when she continued to frown at him: "What?"

    "There''s somethin'' missin'' from yer," she said.

    "Like what?" Urt felt the top of his head, to check he still had hair.

    "Ah dussn''t know," the Hag replied. "Like yoos not... complete. Ahs don''t understands it." She shook her head. "Anyways, yoos needs go. Another is destin''d fer yer she is."

    "Another?" Urt asked.

    "Aye."

    "It wouldn''t be a girl in white would it?"

    "Noo. Itsa sharp ''un, in black, waitin'' fer yoos. Sees ''er soon yoos will. Right excitin'' it''ll be fer yer." She smiled, as if amused at some private joke.

    "Oh." Urt looked down at his bowl.

    "Now," the Hag stood up, all business again. "Finish yer eats and gets yer stuff wizad. Yoos needs to bes off. "

    "Aye," Urt said, feeling suddenly miserable. "I guess ah doos."