Purgatori stood on the balcony, looking out over the city. Her city. The moon was up, half-full but still bright enough to frost the buildings w/ delicate silver highlights. W/out the pollution Purgatori had been used to on that dirt hole that had been Earth, the moon was crisply clear, the way she had been in the desert sky all those thousands of years ago, when Purgatori had been a slave in Alexandria. She remembered how savagely the constellations had stood out against the pitch black of the night sky, how the moon seemed to burn almost as bright as the sun. It was a beautiful night. Pleasantly warm, a cool breeze blowing gently in from the West bringing her the faint sounds of the surf over the noises of the city.
       Her city.
         It still had a delicious ring to it, even after almost three decades. Her own city, a place where she ruled and everybody obeyed her. Where everybody worshipped her. Where they worshipped and obeyed her because they loved her. Loved…was that a bit extreme? She rested her elbows on the ornate golden railings of the balcony and gazed unseeingly at the vista in front of her. No, she finally decided. It was true. There were many different kinds of love, and the love of the people who inhabited her city was a perfectly valid permutation. They loved her because she had rallied them after she had appeared in this world after the ripping blast of Armageddon's death throws; because she had transformed them from a group of straggling confused victims into a formidable and as yet undefeated army; because she had given them a place they could call home.
         New Necropolis. It was all she had ever dreamed of. Built on the ruined remains of some devastated metropolis, raised by the brute force of her power and magick, improved and expanded by the hands of contented workers. Expanded by building. Expanded by conquest. Expanded by assimilating cities and villages that her armies had liberated. Stragglers became a group; a group became a small band, band became army. Bivouac became camp, camp became settlement; settlement became town, town became city, became metropolis, became empire.
        Purgatori was no fool. She had grown up in the turbulent reign of Egypt's bloodthirsty dynasties, where a worshipped queen one day was the next day's mob-fodder. She only had to look back at her own bitter experiences w/ her previous lover to get a hard lesson in how not to treat your subjects. She supposed her powers were one reason they all obeyed her : they - and she - knew that even if they all rose up at once she could probably kill them all, unless they caught her by surprise. She could probably do it, she thought, despite having carefully endowed each of her warriors w/ a minute fraction of her own power. A minute fraction, yes - but a minute fraction of a frighteningly vast reservoir was still quite a lot. Her elite guard Blood Warriors, the Jackals, were formidable, their reputation spreading. Scouts and spies told her that various warrior clans, veteran ravagers and pillagers, would balk at the thought of going up against her. Cities offered her gifts, hoping to buy either her protection or their continued existence.
         She ruled well. She was the undisputed ruler of the city, but she gave the people what they wanted. Magickal strength and enhanced weapons and armour for her troops. Fine buildings for her citizens. They had developed extensive trade routes all over the planet, bringing in all kinds of luxuries, supplies, technology and treasures. Yesterday, a delegation had come from a small village she and her troops had saved almost by accident : they had been escorting a trade caravan when they had stumbled across a raiding party attacking an isolated fishing village. They dispatched the raiders and carried on their way, and yesterday a delegation had turned up to give her thanks. They brought her fine clothes and fish, beautiful ornamental ghost koi. Purgatori had received them in the main reception hall of her palace : there had been a very small girl w/ them, no more than six years old, a bandage on her left arm. She had trotted forward shyly, given Purgatori a small bunch of flowers and a quick kiss and then sped back to hide behind the skirt of her mother, who was also bandaged. Purgatori was struck dumb, glad of the polite laughter that had filled in what would have otherwise been a very uncomfortable silence. The flowers stood in a vase on her dressing table. When had anyone given her flowers? These people were grateful to her, thankful to her. They were now her friends and allies. Her people were happy. They loved her. They worshipped her for the goddess she truly was.
         And still she felt unfulfilled.
         She had followers, worshippers, but no lover. Well, she had people who made love to her, but no-one who loved her, not since Lexus had vanished. She had subtly but extensively mindscanned everyone who lived in New Necropolis, checking for even the slightest hint of potential betrayal. If she got even the remotest whiff of a dark plan to pretend to be her follower in order to kill her and rob her of her powers she added a new heart to her collection. These people were loyal to her, and they loved her for what she had done and what she could give them, but she was still looking for someone who would love her, even if she had nothing to offer. She had found one once. She had had to leave him. She had found another. She had vanished on a scouting expedition that Purgatori herself had sent her on.
         She closed her eyes, her head and wings drooping slightly. It was so unfair. Why did she seem doomed never to be able to hold on to a lover? Ostraca had loved her, and had almost had her killed. Satrina had loved her, and had betrayed her to some petty human whore who liked to call herself a "vampire hunter". Glenn Wolf had loved her, and she had been forced by unforeseen circumstances to leave him. She opened her eyes and gazed down at the streets far below, lit softly by mystically floating orbs of magick light. Soft, comfortable light. Not the blaring orange of the San Francisco streets, or the harsh blinding lights the humans had affixed to their vehicles there, and yet these were the two connections she made : feverishly hunting above the depressingly empty Frisco streets, and being hit by a huge metal human vehicle after an unexpected psychic assault by that pathetic whelp she had been embarrassed to have to call "blood daughter". Those lights were glints on the first links of a long and near fatal chain that had left her in Africa, her blood-link w/ Wolf severed. Her one true unwaveringly loyal ally, the man who loved her deeply and respectfully and to whom she owed her life, had been snatched from her when her blood had been drained by her creator, Rath.
        Left in Africa, all alone. And damn, hadn't getting back to America been fun? Long and involved, but amusing. She had made her way to Cairo and selected the most prestigious company there, basing her selection purely on the size of the buildings it owned, and how expensive they looked. She had slipped in one night and discovered who the head person was, and then followed him home the next night and killed him. She had shapeshifted into his form and "he" had called an emergency meeting to advise the company that he had had bad news from the doctor and was going to step down temporarily - and to tide things over a new girl by the name of Sakkara would be taking his place. And hadn't that little announcement set the snake amongst the doves? Oh, they hated Sakkara, the ones who should have been next in line for the CEO job but had now found themselves rudely passed over. Did she care? Not a jot. Did she know how to run a multi-national company? Not remotely. Did that bother her? Guess. But as per her nature she was clever, manipulative. She saw here a chance to build herself an empire of sorts, standing on the back of this global organisation. She called meetings of key personnel and subtly sucked information out of their minds. She began deftly but surreptitiously changing the company's goals, and her radical aims hit home, probably more by luck than judgment. Then she called another meeting, told them she had been ordered by the sick owner to take control of a new American market, and had hopped the Atlantic in a corporate jet and left them to squabble amongst themselves. She laughed most of the way to America. She was good at mindfking people. It was kinda like a hobby.
        Almost immediately she had been caught up in other things. She had detected traces of the Fallen on her approach from the East and had found things in the ruins of  New York that had swept her headlong into her quest for goddesshood. She had taken a swift break to go to San Francisco and when she got there, deliciously anticipating the look on  Glenn's face when he opened the door and saw her unexpectedly standing there, she found he was gone. His dojo, that squat compact building where he had found her all those years ago, found her and nursed her back to health, had been torched. She had stood numbly in the charred skeletal wreckage of the training hall, that hateful cold rain falling on her mischievously from the gaping roof, desperately scanning the debris for the psychical imprints a cremating soul would have left behind. There were none. Glenn had not perished in the blaze. She had sent out scouts w/ lots of reward money and the best information she could get was that he had bailed after the Mafia had put a price on his head. She had managed to gather a meeting of the Takeshi Yakuza family and had financed them to locate him, protect him and return him to her, but then Satrina had reappeared and after that things had spiralled chaotically out of control, faster and more destructive than a tornado, and almost before she knew what was going on she had ended up shuddering in poison throes at the feet of some primordial beast, her body trying desperately to protect herself even as she blacked out. And when she finally came to she had been engulfed in raw seething power and when that had passed the world she had been in simply didn't exist anymore.
        Was he still alive? Was he out there somewhere? She sighed and wandered along the long balcony, letting her eyes flick over the tranquil panorama. W/ her newfound powers she had discovered that what had once been was now split into eight different dimensional planes, each unique and yet similar, each existing separately yet somehow inextricably linked to the others. She sent scouts out to all seven; powerful vampires and her most trusted lieutenants. Over the course of a year four came back. There had been no sign of the other three.
        Her senses twitched. She knew someone was coming out of the elevator on her floor. She knew who it was even though they were a hundred metres away and out of sight : Demonica, that gorgeous blonde from Hell. She had been w/ her equally pretty sister, Diabolica, in the small city of Tangra, some miles to the East, a city that had been invaded and occupied by a barbarian race called the Maac. Purgatori's troops went in and massacred them all. Purgatori encircled Tangra w/ a neat fence of uniformly spaced stakes, each holding a Maac body. The Tangrians worshipped her now, owed her a huge debt. A city built on the largest diamond field Purgatori had ever seen, it had had an unhappy history of being conquered, forced into slavery, attacked and reconquered. Purgatori's was the first army to come in and free it. She built them a new city wall and defences and left a detachment of troops in return for a small cut of their diamond trade. She had come across Demonica and Diabolica in the city dungeon. The Maac were looking for sex toys, but ones w/ horns, tails and furry legs must not have been to their liking - they cast the twins in a pit and left them to rot.
        "Mistress?"
        Purgatori turned around w/ a faint smile. Demonica had a very low grade crush on Purgatori and didn't know that Purgatori knew. Most of it came from the fact that Purgatori had been the one who discovered them and released them from the dungeon, some of it was because she was in awe of Purgatori, Purgatori the legend in Hell. Another, not insignificant, part was that Purgatori had made the sisters her personal assistants, thereby giving them the one thing they had lusted after in Hell : privilege and position, right at the very top of the social hierarchy.
        "Yes Demonica?"
        "Sorry to bother you Mistress," Demonica said, slightly breathlessly, "but Lexus has returned."
        It took a moment to sink in. "Lexus?" Lexus had been one of the scouts dispatched to look for Glenn over fifteen years ago, one of Purgatori's most trusted allies. She had been Purgatori's lover, true lover, and she had vanished.
        Demonica nodded vigorously, making her lush hair bounce. "Mm hmm. She appeared through the Gate-thingy half an hour ago. She's a bit beaten up, but otherwise she's fine."
        "Take me to her!"

        Lexus had been taken to the royal physicians. Purgatori was the royalty in the city and didn't need a physician, but they brought in nice income : some of the citizens were willing to pay good money to be treated by the Empress' doctors. Their small ziggurat stood less than a mile from Purgatori's pyramid palace, joined to it by a pleasant tree-shaded gravel path. Purgatori strode past the bowing guards and nurses, trying to quell her anticipation and excitement and steel herself for a possible disappointment, and found Lexus in the main consulting room, irritably submitting to the attentions of the doctors whom she obviously considered unnecessary. Same old Lexus, Purgatori thought w/ equal parts amusement and wonder. She hasn't changed a bit.
        Lexus jerked her head away from a nurse who was trying to inspect her ear and saw Purgatori standing in the doorway. "Sweetheart!" She shoved the doctors away and rushed over.  Purgatori pulled her into a tight embrace. They hugged for a long time, oblivious of the others, and then Purgatori pulled back to gaze at Lexus. Same beautiful face, though smudged w/ bruises now and w/ a raw abrasion on her left temple, same sexy full lips, ripe and succulent, same fair skin that set off the tattoed stripe that crossed her nose and ran down her cheeks, same intoxicating eyes; blank white discs against jet black.
        "Lexus," Purgatori said softly, almost purring. "What happened? I missed you so much."
        Lexus managed to frown and smile at the same time. "And I missed you. I hope you didn't find another lover while I was gone…" She said it light-heartedly, a call-back to the joke they had shared when Purgatori had asked her to go, but then she saw Purgatori's expression and she froze. "…you…"
        Purgatori lowered her head. "What was I supposed to do? I thought you had perished."
        "Perished?!" Lexus exploded, wrenching out of Purgatori's embrace. The doctors scattered as Purgatori's guards moved forward but she waved them back before things could get out of control. "That's a pathetic excuse you cheap whore! I've only been gone two months!"
        Everyone flinched at the insult, expecting Purgatori to redecorate the room w/ Lexus's innards, but the last comment threw things right off track.
        "What?"
        Lexus glared at Purgatori, her eyes glistening. "You just couldn't wait could you?" she spat, her voice wavering on the last word. "I don't know why I bothered to come back." She hitched in a breath and then, almost as an afterthought, slapped Purgatori across the face. Purgatori was caught entirely off guard. He head was knocked hard over to the right and she almost didn't see the bodyguard on her left in time. He lunged forward w/ his sword already poised, determined to take the head of this impudent wretch. They knew she was Purgatori's lover, but no one struck the Empress.
        "NO!" The sword sheared out of his hand less than a foot from Lexus' skull and skittered across the floor. "Leave us."
        "But Emp-"
        "LEAVE US!"
        They went, and quickly. Lexus tried to go w/ them. Purgatori put a hand on her shoulder but she slapped it away angrily.
        "Get your hands off me!" More sorrow than anger in the tone.
        Purgatori grabbed her and spun her around. Lexus fought to get out of her grip but Purgatori was far too strong. "Lexus -"
        "Get off!"
        "- it's been fifteen years."
        "Get - " She broke off and blinked at Purgatori, sending a silver tear running down each cheek. Her eyes searched Purgatori's face, hunting out a lie and finding none. "W-what are you talking about? I've only been gone fifty-three days! I c-counted them!"
        Purgatori shook her head gently. "Not here. I waited ten years for you. I thought I'd never see you again."
        Lexus scanned her face a while longer and then wilted. "…oh..." she said in a tiny voice. Her eyes slipped down to Purgatori's cheek where she could see a faint imprint of her fingers and fresh tears welled up. "I-I- I thought - "
        Purgatori's lips cut her off, her hands now stroking and caressing rather than gripping like manacles. Lexus hesitated for a second and then threw her arms around Purgatori, hugging her fiercely.

        "The world is inhabited by the dead," Lexus said. They were in a private reception room in the palace, where Purgatori would meet w/ officials and dignitaries : plush and luxurious, comfortable and relaxing. "They walk in hordes and consume whatever they come across. Their numbers seem countless, as though the entire population has been killed."
        Purgatori's eyes narrowed. "Walking dead? Did you sense any traces of the Arcane Energy I told you about?"
        "No. Why? Who were you expecting?"
        "Some slut of no importance. Perhaps her ally."
        "But I did detect traces of your magic." Purgatori leaned forward, hanging on every word. "Very very faint, very far off, but unmistakable. I think I was only able to detect it due to the population being dead…there wasn't as much interference as usual…I followed it for about one hundred miles but the numbers of the dead were getting greater the nearer I drew towards the city. I thought it prudent to return and report."
        "You did well." Purgatori sat beside Lexus on a sumptuous couch, gently stroking the brunette's thigh and feeling tiny waves of jealousy coming off Demonica who was sitting opposite w/ two of Purgatori's generals.
        "What are we to do Milady?" Vulnavia asked. "Shall we prepare a force to go over there?"
        "Might I respectfully remind my Empress of the build-up of Saarga warriors around Alexandria?" General Rourke said. "It would be…imprudent to weaken our forces at this time."
        "I am aware of the forces General. I have no intention of sending an army to the other world until we know it would be worth it."
        "Of course Empress," Rourke said, bowing slightly. "Perhaps a small scouting party…"
        Purgatori felt Lexus stiffen slightly and knew what she was thinking. "I will see you here at midday tomorrow, Generals."
        They stood up, bowed and left. Rourke returned to his barracks and summoned Captain Danko, a veteran friend of over two hundred years. "Danko. We may be called to arrange a scouting party to another world."
        "I had heard one of the scouts had returned."
        "News travels fast. Speak to your staff : I need a list of the best soldiers for the job. Ones who are experienced in covert missions."
        "Right away sir." Danko saluted and left, heading across the darkened parade ground for his own office, wondering of he should put his own name forward. He was looking forward to the battle w/ the Saarga, but infiltration behind possible enemy lines was his speciality, and the chance of exploring a new world was awfully tempting. He suspected he would not be allowed to go though, and that would be a damn shame, it would -
        "Captain Danko?"
        He stopped, startled out of his thoughts, and turned to see a figure coming towards him from the thick shadows that cobwebbed the space between a barracks building and his own. The figure was dressed in a foot soldier's uniform.
        "Yes?"
        "I need you to do something for me."
        Danko bristled. Who the Hell did this maggot think he was? "You - "
        The figure pointed at him and pale yellow energy flashed through the air and enveloped Danko silently. When it cleared, Danko stood motionless, his eyes glazed.
        "Danko?"
        "Yes my Lord?"
        The figure tittered happily. "That's my good Captain. Just like a faithful little doggie."
        "Yes, my Lord."
        "You work for me now Danko. We are going to rule this world. Briefly, that is, before we destroy it and that red bitch completely. Carry on as normal Danko. You have the power to convert now - recruit selectively and carefully."
        "Yes my Lord."
        "Go about your business."
        Danko stood for a few seconds and then blinked. No, he didn't think he would be allowed to go to the new world, and that was a damn shame, it would have been just like the old days when they had first crossed the huge ocean and found land on the other side. He heard footsteps behind him and saw a footsoldier heading away from him. He watched the figure disappear into the gloom, and then continued on his way.

        "You want me to go back, don't you?"
        They had retired to Purgatori's bedroom. They had stripped, bathed, and now Lexus was lying face down on the bed. Purgatori sat astride her and was diligently trying to drive Lexus mad w/ pleasure. She was stroking and caressing Lexus's back and sides, tracing random meaningless patterns on her pale skin w/ her wonderfully sharp talons. She had forgotten nothing in the fifteen years, Lexus thought dizzily as Purgatori bent over and kissed the nape of her neck, she still knew exactly what drove her wild and which parts of her body generated the greatest reaction. Lexus gasped as Purgatori moved, deliberately letting her silken hair drag down Lex's spine.
        "No," Purgatori whispered. The brush of her breath and the delicate dance of her lips made Lexus break out in goose-flesh. " I don't want you to go. But you would be the wisest choice. You are the most attuned to my sorcery and you already know the lay of the land and your possible destination."
        All very sensible points. It wouldn't mean much to Lexus; she would be gone maybe two or three weeks…but for Purgatori that could be almost six years. Would she forget about Lexus? Would she take lovers in the meantime? Questions Lexus was afraid to ask. Her nails were drawing again, scribing swirls and circles over Lexus's back, tracing loops just above her buttocks, making her squirm and twitch, setting every nerve ending on fire. Her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs.
        "I…I'll go if - oh! - you w-want me t-to." She was trying to be solemn and serious but Purgatori was doing things to her that made her mind whirl. Purgatori suddenly raked her talons down the length of Lexus's back, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to leave scarlet ridged trails on her skin. Lexus sucked in breath through clenched teeth, arching her back wildly. Purgatori grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head over, yanking the roots almost out of the scalp. Her lips fastened over Lexus's ear and she kissed and sucked sensously, nibbling w/ the sharp points of her fangs, running the tip of her tongue over the folds of skin, making Lexus moan. That's what she loved about Purgatori : sweet pleasure and even sweeter pain, all wrapped up in one delicious scarlet package.
        Purgatori finished nibbling and slithered off to lie beside Lexus. Lexus rolled over, her back to Purgatori, and snuggled up to her, relishing the feel of Purgatori's fabulous body against her own, the feel of the arm draped over her, the hand cupping her breast.
        "I know you would," Purgatori sighed.
        They lay in silence. Lexus closed her eyes and just concentrated on the feel of her lover's body. Ten years, Purgatori had said. She had waited ten years. Lexus wondered what she would do, how long she would have waited. She wondered how much Purgatori had loved her other partners : there was no one here now, she had made no hurried excuses when they arrived so that meant she didn't currently have a lover. It meant, Lexus thought, somewhat proudly, that none of the ones she had had, had been worth keeping.
        "They weren't."
        Lexus started. "I wish you wouldn't do that."
        "I can't help it. You think too loud."
        Lexus frowned over that one for a moment, then Purgatori leaned close and began gently biting her neck and shoulder and everything began to spin again.
        "Will you wait for me?" Lexus managed to gasp. "Even if it takes a century?"
        "Yes. Now I know you're not dead I'll wait for you forever."
        Lexus squirmed around and kissed Purgatori, pulling her tight and running her tongue over those fabulous fangs. "I love you."
        "I know."
        Lexus could hear the feeling in her voice and all of a sudden she realised that all the things she had been thinking about, Purgatori had too. Purgatori rated loyalty above all else and here she was, probably feeling that she herself was the betrayer, she was the one who had been slutting around behind her lover's back. Of course, it hadn't happened that way, but once a mind got hold of an idea it seemed to delight in  locking its hands tightly around it and not letting go. She pulled away and waited until Purgatori opened her eyes before speaking. "It's alright. You weren't to know." She saw the relief in Purgatori's face, the expression that made her look as though she had just received absolution. They kissed again, fiercely passionate, and then Purgatori pulled Lexus over on top of her and they made slow sweet love while the moon looked on.

        "You wanted to see me, sir?"
        "Yes," Danko said. "Close the door."
        Vyrryn did so then stood to attention in the middle of the room facing Danko.
        Danko got up from behind his desk and walked over, looking Vyrryn over appraisingly. "You are one of our finest warriors, are you not?"
        "Yes," Vyrryn said matter-of-factly : it was true.
        "And you are loyal to our Empress?"
        "Of course," Vyrryn said, just managing to keep his tone civil. This was his General after all, but he was insulted that anyone should question his loyalty.
        "Good. Then I need you to do something for me."
        "Yes sir - " Pale yellow energy flashed through the air and enveloped Vyrryn silently. When it cleared Vyrryn stood motionless, his eyes glazed.
        "Vyrryn." The voice was not Danko's own - it was the voice of the footsoldier he had encountered last night.
        "Yes my Lord."
        "You work for me know Vyrryn. Carry on as normal. You have the ability to convert now - recruit selectively and carefully."
        "Yes, my Lord."
        "Go about your business."
        They stood for a few moments, and then both blinked at the same time.
        "That will be all, Vyrryn," Danko said, sounding mildly dazed.
        "Yes sir," Vyrryn said in the same tone. He saluted and left, and two hours later recruited another.

        Lexus stood on Purgatori's balcony, gazing over the city. If she had needed any further proof that fifteen years had indeed passed since her departure, here it was. The city had grown, both laterally and vertically, at an impressive rate. This pyramid Palace for instance : at three hundred metres tall it had been the largest construction in the city by far. Now it was almost equalled by tall skyscraping living quarters, huge apartment blocks that rose in stepped layers connected by ornate spidery walkways. The city limits had been less than a mile from this place - now they seemed to be over five miles away, and a formidable wall enclosed the city. More statues had been erected : needles, obilisks and icons of Purgatori, Isis, Anubis and Horus. Technology too; the city was a strange amalgam of cultures and inventions, the result of trade and conquest on this world and others that lay through the Gates. The soldiers still used edged weapons and bows in the main, but some of the elite forces carried guns. The city defences were protected by magick and strange weapons that could, according to Purgatori, spit enchanted beams of light that could cut through people easily.
        The sun shone down strongly from a cloudless smalt blue sky, the powerful light making the gold on the buildings burn like fire. Sounds of the surf came to her, carried by the cooling breeze that blew in off the sea. So different from her own tundra village, another one of Purgatori's battle sites. They had traded furs w/ New Necropolis and had requested their help when they found out the Saarga were advancing towards them. The forces arrived too late : the village had been burnt to the ground and all but eight of the inhabitants had been killed, including Lexus's entire family. She had been severely wounded in the fighting but when she awoke in Purgatori's arms she had been healed and unmarked.
        So many changes. She wondered what would confront her when she returned this time. She turned her back on the vista and looked at Purgatori. The wide patio doors of her apartment had been opened and she was resting back in the shade, reclining comfortably against Sebek, her pet crocodile. At the meeting w/ the Generals this morning she had  agreed that Lexus should go back to Deadworld. They had discussed it last night, way into the early hours of the morning. It had been hard for her, Lexus knew. Most people didn't realise how affectionate Purgatori was, and that was probably for the best, considering she had a city to run. She would have considered it an exploitable weakness, probably, so she projected an attitude of a don't-fk-w/-me hardcase, an attitude she wore as comfortably as her own skin. Of course, Lexus reflected, she was a don't-fk-w/-me hardcase, but that wasn't really the point.
        "Are you sure you want to go alone?" Purgatori said.
        "I work better and move faster by myself." She walked towards Purgatori and stopped w/ a flinch as Sebek opened his massive jaws and rumbled out a deep bass growl that seemed to shake her insides.
        Purgatori reached over and stroked his head, smiling reassuringly at Lexus. "He's just being friendly."
        "I'm sure! He's gotten so big…" That was an understatement. Sebek measured thirty nine feet from nose to tail.
        "Isn't he sweet though?" Purgatori smiled, kissing him. "He wouldn't hurt a fly."
        Lexus didn't know about flies, but she did know about people : Purgatori would regularly bring prisoners of war in here and watch happily as Sebek tore them apart.
        Purgatori stood up and patted his shoulder. "Run along, pretty. I have business to attend to." Sebek lumbered off to his pool and she came over, looping her arms around Lexus's waist, kissing her softly on the lips.
        "Shall I go from here?" Lexus asked when they parted, resting her head on Purgatori's shoulder.
        "No. Nobody knows about my Gate - I want to keep it that way. Come."
        Lexus held back, not wanting to ask the question again, but needing to. "Will…will you wait for me?"
        Purgatori kissed her forehead. "Forever," she whispered.
        Lexus hugged her tightly and then they made their way down to the street to where Purgatori's carriage stood waiting.
        "Did Danko seem…different to you?" Purgatori asked as the carriage took them sedately to the Gate.
        "Different how?" Lexus asked, her face nestled up against Purgatori's neck again. She wasn't really interested in Danko right now.
        "I…don't know," Purgatori frowned. "He seemed…" She trailed off into silence. It was probably nothing. She had mindscanned him and had found nothing, so maybe it was just her being paranoid again. Maybe he just -
        "Never mind Danko, anyway," Lexus purred. "Make love to me."
        "Here? Now?" Already she could feel herself responding to the idea.
        Lexus gave a deep throaty chuckle that made Purgatori feel as though her clothes were too tight. "Why not? I've never made love in a carriage before."
        So they did.

        Lexus stood by the Gate, buckling her quiver to her hip. There was a small crowd of military staff around the Gate in a loose semi-circle.
        "Is there anything else you need?" Danko asked.
        Lexus paused a moment before answering, feining a problem w/ her buckle but actually covertly examining him out of the corner of her eye. She could see Purgatori doing the same, but she could sense nothing out of the ordinary. "No, I'm fine." She squared her shoulders and turned her attention solely to Purgatori. "I'll be back soon."
        "Keep safe," Purgatori said softly.
        Lexus turned away quickly before the first tear could fall and walked towards the Gate, reciting the activation spell in her mind.
        Purgatori watched her walk into the triangle of polished obsidian; there was a flash of violet and then she was gone.
        "Empress?"
        Gone. For maybe another decade. Maybe longer.
        "Empress?"
        Purgatori turned to look at Rourke. "What?"
        "Shall we continue preparations to mobilise against the Saarga?"
        "Yes."
        "You will accompany us as usual…?"
        "Yes." I need to keep my mind off other things. "Prepare our galleys. We will circle up the coast and take them broadside. It is a longer trek but we will have the element of surpise."
        Rourke bowed. "As you wish, milady."
        They moved away to begin final preparations and Purgatori stood alone for a moment.
        "Mistress?" Quiet, hesitant.
        "Yes Demonica?"
        "Your armour is prepared and your robes and jewellery packed. Your sword is asking for you." Her distaste showed in her voice.
        "Tell Nightmare it can wait upon my convenience," Purgatori said coldly. Goddamn thing still didn't know its place. She would teach it.
        "Yes Mistress." Demonica hesitated, watching Purgatori looking at empty space. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again and left before she could say something she might regret.
        In another part of the palace, someone recruited her sister.

        Wolf knew he had been taking a big risk when he killed the Mafia courier and stole his consignment of blood, but Purgatori was going on a long journey and she needed it fast. He was quick and efficient. For six weeks things had been pretty tense. He kept a low profile, sent his contacts out to find out what they could about what the Mafia knew. He had cost them over two million dollars : they wanted payback badly. He headed back to the dojo one night and found it in flames. He bailed : back to the house, got his money, passport, guns and knives, and got the fk out of Dodge, pausing only to post his Desert Eagle and several knives to Kurosawa Sensei. He kept moving for four years. They got close to him in England and he moved on, leaving two of them dead and one in a coma. That didn't really endear him to them. He moved to Japan and after a year there he discovered that the Yakuza were after him. Why, he didn't know. He had heard that they had forgiven him for the killing of his fiance, but he wasn't about to put the rumour to the test. Jesus, the laughs just never stopped. He moved on to Australia, then back to the USA. First thing he did was to contact Kurosawa Sensei, his teacher, mentor and sword maker. Kurosawa himself was ex-Yakuza. He was cool w/ Glenn's situation and was probably the only person who knew his life story. He was one of the few people Glenn trusted. He hadn't even questioned Glenn when he had brought him enchanted steel to be made into a sword. Her sword was ready and in storage. Glenn thanked him and hung up. He stayed the night in a hotel.
        He got up at six the next morning. It was cold and crisp, a fresh December morning that suggested there might be snow later in the day. The deal was simple : get over to Kurosawa Sensei's building, get the sword and pay him some extra money for his trouble - he wouldn't want the money, but he needed it and Glenn knew he would have a real fight to make him accept it - then move on again. He wanted the sword away from his friend : if the Mafia knew about him, they might know who his friends were. He needed the sword to give to Purgatori when he managed to track her down, but he wanted to get the blade to a safe place of his own. He wanted Kurosawa Sensei to have nothing that could connect him w/ Wolf, anything that might put him in danger.
        He scouted the area, circling the block Kurosawa Sensei lived in, keeping to deep shadows, then detoured to a coffee shop to get himself fed and wait for population to appear - safety in numbers; witnesses.
        Come nine-fifteen, it was lighter and people were starting to appear, but far fewer that Glenn would have liked. He left the coffee shop and headed for the forge, circling the block again, this time in the opposite direction. He was newly returned to the country and there was no reason to suspect that they knew he was here, but Wolf was nothing if not careful. He was passing a news vendor setting up his kiosk. The guy had most of his stock out on display - Glenn gave it a cursory, disinterested glance and stopped dead.
       Time magazine. Large colour photo, caption "New CEO Of Global Power Company Comes Out Of The Shadows" and below that in twelve-point blood red capitals "WE GET EXCLUSIVE FIRST INTERVIEW W/ ISIS INTERNATIONAL'S BRILLIANT BUT SECRETIVE CONTROLLER". All that barely registered - it was the photograph that mesmerised him. Pale cream skin instead of red, piercing blue eyes instead of glowing white; no horns, no wings, no mistake.
        Purgatori.
        Wolf stopped, gaping at the cover. After all these years, after all the doubts and worry, there she was, unmistakable. Same raven hair, same angelic face, same smile, the one that could make you orgasm all by itself.
        "You wanna copy of that or what?"
        Glenn looked blankly at the vendor, decoded what he had said and hurriedly dug out a couple of bills. He pulled the magazine off the rack and walked off w/out his change.
        Look at her. Stunning. What was she doing at Isis? How had she gotten there? Didn't matter - he knew where to find her now. As soon as he had her sword he would start making phonecalls. Damn, that was some spooky omen wasn't it? The day he goes to pick up her sword is the day a magazine is printed w/ her glorious photo on the cover. It was like maybe she was watching over him, maybe -
        Wrapped up in the glossy photo, he took almost a second longer than normal to register the scream. He looked up, adrenaline pumping. A woman to his left was in the process of dropping her bag and covering her mouth w/ her hands. There was a man in front of him : dark glasses, smart suit, silk tie, hundred dollar haircut. Silenced Beretta.
        Glenn jumped forward and sideways. THUP! The magazine tore out of his hands and something snapped through the air past his right ear. The guy hadn't expected Wolf to jump towards him. He suddenly found his target less than two feet away and he swung the pistol. Glenn's arm snapped out in a Wing Chun block and the jarring impact made the guy's finger jerk. The bullet went through the window of a hairdressing salon, fortunately not open for business yet. Glenn grabbed the gun, twisted it towards the guy and blew his left eye out. He dropped like a sack of gravel leaving Glenn w/ the gun.
        Howling engine. Glenn hit the ground and the hail of bullets chewed up the brickwork overhead, spattering him w/ chips of stone. He rolled, pivotted, and came up between two parked cars, already feeling the wind as the car raced past, fleeing the scene. He jumped up, aimed and put six bullets into the rear window, rapid fire. Only two of them made it through, the others shrieked off the thick angled glass. F*cking nine-millimetre. If he'd had his 357 Desert Eagle that car would have been a slaughter house.
        Screaming. He was standing by a dead body w/ a gun in his hand. Not good. No sirens yet. He snatched up the magazine and sprinted for the dojo, a horrible black premonition fluttering in the back of his head. He still hadn't heard a siren by the time he reached the building and he shoved the door open, jerking back into a half-crouch, the gun sweeping the interior. It was a simple building. The room he was looking into was small, neat, square, painted soft dove grey w/ bamboo stencils and framed calligraphy. There were a couple of comfortable chairs and a small table w/ a bonsai tree in a plain white rectangular pot - this was where Kurosawa Sensei received his few guests, or just came to relax, watching the world go by as he drank his sweet tea. The blinds were still down at the moment, and the interior was gloomy, watery sunlight slashing across the shadows in pale anaemic bars that crossed the floor and angled up the wall. Empty. There was a door at the opposite end of the room : it led to a short narrow corridor that in turn led to the forge and workshop.
        Glenn put the magazine down - he never wondered until much later why he was so concerned about that copy - why he didn't just leave it in the street and buy a new copy later - and crossed to the door, swift and silent. Listen. Nothing.
        He stood to one side, pulled the door open and two silenced shots sped past his head. Wolf dropped to his knee, sighted and fired. Smack of lead in flesh, strangled cry, thump of falling body. Glenn was halfway along the corridor before the man had hit the ground and he put a bullet right between the eyes of the guy who moved into view. No sound. Glenn darted into the workshop, dropping down and scanning the room.
        Kurosawa Sensei lay on his workbench.
        "Sensei!" Glenn was at his side in a moment, grimacing at the blood. It looked like they had worked him over w/ some of his chisels and Glenn could see why - there were two more bodies on the floor, killed in hand-to-hand combat. Kurosawa had gone down fighting. Wolf couldn't see Kurosawa's chest rise but his left eye fluttered open weakly - the right was sealed closed by thickened blood.
        "…O…kami…"
        "Sensei, hold on. I can bind the wounds and call -"
        "…no…" His eye still shone. His voice was a whisper, but still had power.
        " - but Sensei -"
        "No, Okami-san. They broke my hands. I can work no more." Glenn felt his throat lock, his eyes glistening. "Besides, I have no…no w-wish to live through w-what comes."
        Wolf barely paid attention to this - he couldn't take his eyes from the red fluid leaking slowly from the holes in his friend's body. Much later, after the events that transpired on New Year's Eve, he would remember the words and think that maybe Kurosawa had been right. It wasn't the first time he had had premonitions and Glenn would wonder exactly what he had seen.
        "I…in the cabinet…" Unable to gesture, Kurosawa moved his eyes in the direction of the steel gun cabinet that was bolted to the wall. Glenn didn't want to go - his friend was more important than the sword - but that blade had probably cost him his friend's life and to ignore his work would have been a grave insult.
        He crossed to the cabinet quickly, fishing his keys out of his pocket and getting the copy that Sensei had given him when Glenn had been his pupil. The door opened on well oiled hinges and Glenn pulled out a leather sword bag. He glanced over to Kurosawa who nodded almost imperceptibly, and even over here Glenn could see the pleasure in his eyes. Glenn unzipped the bag and pulled out the katana, wrapped in a bag of scarlet silk, undid the ties and slid the sword out reverently. She was exquisite. The handle was wrapped in black cord and the tsuba was a black disc decorated w/ a pentacle of inlaid silver. Glenn bowed to the sword, slid her out of her plain black scabbard and gazed at the blade. Polished to a mirror finish w/ an undulating temper line running down her length below a shallow blood groove, she was mouthwateringly beautiful, perfectly balanced. He moved her slightly and could see that strange purple afterglow that signified Purgatori's sorcery.
        "Okami-san."
        "Yes Sensei?" Glenn was back at his side immediately.
        "The…remaining…metal is in the…cabinet. I did not know to make a wakazashi and tanto or not."
        "It's alright Sensei. The sword is all she asked for. She is beautiful."
        Kurosawa smiled. "I...I c-call her 'Kintaro'. My best work," he whispered. "My…final work."
        "Sensei -"
        "Listen, Okami-san." His eyes met Wolf's and Wolf swallowed, his throat dry. "My time is over. I have a favour to ask."
        Glenn stood very still, fearing what was coming.
        "I…ask…that you…take care of me…"
        Glenn's stomach clenched. "No Sensei! I can get help! We -"
        "Shh." The voice, barely a whisper now, was enough to cut Glenn off. "I have no regrets, Okami-san. Please. I should be happy if the first blood she drinks is mine."
        Glenn swallowed past the lump in his throat and bowed, dislodging the tears. "I would be honoured, Sensei," he croaked.
        "Help me kneel."
        Glenn put the sword down and helped Kurosawa off the bench. How he had the strength to kneel proudly on the ground as his wounds continued to leak was beyond Glenn. His body was beginning to shudder but his head was bowed serenely. Wolf hurriedly wiped his hands and drew the blade. He had no water for the blade, but since she was a virgin he hoped it wouldn't matter. He took the kaishaku position by Kurosawa and raised his sword, his throat like sandpaper.
        "Se-Sensei…"
        "I know, Okami-san."
        "I - " He had to wait precious seconds for his throat to unlock and when it did the tears were flowing freely. "I am honoured to have known you Sensei."
        "And I you," Kurosawa said, and Glenn could hear the smile in his voice. He shuddered and grimaced. " - quickly - "
        The sword swept down.

        The sirens came and went. Wolf knelt in the workshop, hands on thighs, trying to meditate, trying to make peace w/ himself. Trying to curb the rage that wanted to take him to the house he knew was a Mafia mansion and paint the walls w/ the blood of everyone he came across. How had they known? Probably they had tapped Kurosawa's phone. Kurosawa had been like a father to him and he had kept in touch over the years. Maybe a contact had alerted them : he had a bounty on his head that was extremely attractive, attractive enough that it might just have killed the only person in the world he could completely trust.
        Oh jesus, Sensei. Why did it end like this? Why did they have to torture you like that?
        He didn't want to admit the answer to that one, but his mind cast it up anyway. Because of me. Because I fked them over and they wanted payback. Fked them over for a woman. A vampire. Glenn opened his eyes and gazed at her sword, laid out in front of him. Sword. Purgatori. Alive. Magazine. He stood up quickly and put the sword back in her leather bag, added the spare metal and his Desert Eagle and zipped it shut. Time to go. The Mafia might be waiting outside but he didn't think they would try and cap him, not w/ so much activity having occurred so far. The cops might be around soon too; Glenn knew the couple of people who had seen him run hadn't seen where he went when he rounded the corner, and even if they had they would have told the cops that he was the innocent party, just a guy walking along reading a magazine. Of course, now there was a decapitated body to consider, but that was a different matter altogether.
        Glenn went upstairs to Kurosawa's humble but cosy room and knelt before the body, bowing his head to the carpet. All the good times they had shared. All the things he had taught Wolf. Saved him from dying on the streets, probably - kept him out of jail at the very least.
        What a waste of life. Glenn straightened up, put the cash he had brough on the top of the quilt covering the body, bowed one final time and left.

        He got out through the back door, a small, creaky rectangle of dirty wood that opened into the alley behind the forge. Sensei never used this, and judging by the fact that he had to move several cartons to get to it Glenn suspected that the hitmen hadn't even realised it was there. Therefore, he should be able to get out undetected while they were unsuspectingly watching only the front door. Hopefully.
        He hovered back in the shadows until he saw a cab coming down the main road then darted out and flagged it, stepping out right into its path so that it had no option but to stop for him. He slipped in, directing the driver to a random point across town, anxious just to put distance between himself and the forge. He ignored the driver's acid comments, and his inane attempts at conversation on the way : his mind was going around like a cyclone. What to do, what to do? First thing was to get in touch w/ Purgatori - or Sakkara as she was now calling herself - and deliver the katana to her. That blade had cost the life of probably the only real friend Glenn had had and it was of the utmost importance that that sacrifice wasn't in vain. He lifted his magazine idly and his blood cooled a bit as he saw the fuzzy-edged hole in the top corner. Fk me, that was close. It seemed to hypnotise him a bit. Too damn close, Wolf. That fker had your name on it.
        Sword first, yes, but what about the time between then and now? He needed to defend himself. He leaned forward suddenly and got the driver to change destination, giving him the address of the gun shop where he had bought the Eagle ten years ago. It was still there, and open, and Glenn breathed a sigh of relief, realising he had been all but resigned to discover it had closed or moved in the intervening period. He got the cab to wait and went in, taking the sword w/ him. No way he would leave her lying around.
        He bought a box of fifty 357 jacketed hollowpoints and while the guy on the till ran his credit card Glenn noticed a sign on the wall behind him
        "You do custom ammo orders?" he asked as an idea popped into his head.
        "Like the sign says."
        "Can you make me some JHPs? Same loads as these?"
         "Well why don't you just buy some more?" the guy asked w/ a frown.
        Wolf fished inside a pocket of the sword bag and pulled out the spare metal that Kurosawa Sensei hadn't used. "Because I want you to make the jackets out of this."
        "What is that, steel?"
        "Uh huh."
        "Rip your barrel up, mind."
        "Yeah."
        The guy shrugged. "Your gun man. Be ready on Friday."
        "Can't you do them any quicker?"
        "Do them for tomorrow for an extra thirty bucks."
        "Deal."
        "Need the money in advance."
        "Sure. Put it on the card."
        Glenn got back in the cab and told the driver to take him back to his motel. The cabby grumbled something but his fare would make the circuitous route worthwhile.
        In the motel, Glenn stripped, showered, changed and then knelt in meditation for half an hour, wondering if Kurosawa Sensei's spirit was still near and whether he heard his thoughts, begging for forgiveness for bringing his death.
        He waited until it got dark - early at this time of year - and then slipped out to the McDonald's across the street. He dragged out his rapidly dwindling finances and found he could just afford a happy meal; not much, but it would have to do until he could make it to an ATM. When he got back to the motel he ate quickly and found they had put a Beanie Baby anteater in his bag. It was cute, so he put it into the pocket of the sword bag for Purgatori, never considering that little cuddly toys might not be to the liking of a demonic vampire goddess.
        He spent the next twenty minutes on the phone, trying to get sense out of Isis International. They were evasive about Madame Sakkara's whereabouts and a meeting was definitely out of the question. The best Glenn could manage was to leave his name and number w/ a request that she be told of his call immediately. He mentioned that he had her sword and when he hung up he wished he hadn't - that sort of a cryptic comment would probably have gotten him written off as a crank.
        Nothing more to do that night but wait for the phone to ring. He cleaned the sword, stripped and cleaned the Desert Eagle, loaded the three mags and then ran through his Wing Chun forms and Kempo kata before lying on the bed to watch some TV. There was a news report on CNN - major sabotage damage at Isis International's HQ in Cairo. Glenn tensed, then relaxed when the reporter specifically mentioned that Sakkara hadn't been in the building at the time. So, that probably explained the evasiveness of the secretaries.
        Wolf switched off the television and lay in the dark, looking at nothing. In the space of eight hours he had rediscovered a person he thought he would never see again, he had almost been assassinated, and he had killed the man who had been the only real family he had ever had.
        Fking Mafia.
        Glenn put the Eagle under his pillow and went to sleep.

        It was another bright, crisp day - blindningly bright but freezing cold. Glenn took breakfast then ran through his stretching exercises and Tai Chi forms until ten o'clock. A phonecall to the gun shop told him his bullets were ready. The guy didn't sound happy. Glenn got a taxi.
        The gun shop guy shoved the box of cartridges across the counter top at him. "Don't you ever bring any more of that in here again," he snapped, and Glenn could hear the fear behind the anger. He took the bullets and left in puzzlement, wondering what the Hell had happened.
        In the cab on the way back, the driver was rabbitting on about angels fighting in Las Vegas. Glenn shook his head wearily and watched the cityscape roll past. Vampires. Walking dead. Angels and demons fighting.
       Jesus. Merry Christmas and a Happy New fking Year.

        Glenn scanned the streets before getting out of the cab and walking to his room. There was nothing out of the ordinary going on. He went up to the second floor room, unlocked the door and went in.
        There were men in the living room.
        Glenn dropped the bullets and yanked out the Desert Eagle, fast but too slow to have saved him. He had been caught napping, but fortunately they weren't making any offensive movements. There were seven of them, young and well-built Japanese in very expensive suits.
        Yakuza.
        Glenn lined up on the one dressed all in black. "Don't fking move!"
        The man didn't. None of them did. He just smiled thinly at Glenn. "It has been a long time, Okami."
        Wolf's eyes narrowed, flicking around the group. The slightest twitch from any of them and the Sleep Inn would have a Hell of a redecoration bill. "Who the fk are you?"
        The man raised his hands slowly and removed his Wayfarers. Glenn stared, half in expectation, half in confusion. "Akira," he said at last. The bleached white-blond crewcut was gone, the torn jeans and Ramones T-shirt had been replaced w/ a very tasteful Armani suit, and the somewhat scrawny man was now a steel-muscled killing machine.
        "Last time I saw you was the night you killed my sister," Akira said. He had no inflection in his voice, no expression on his face to betray his feelings.
        Glenn shifted, not really surprised at the pang he still felt at the mention of her. "I…had to."
        Akira bowed his head slightly. "Put your weapon away Okami. We are not here for revenge. If we were, you would be gutted already."
        "I don't think so."
        "I do. You left the door open."
        Glenn's heart froze, knowing it was the truth. He was torn between checking to see if Akira was bluffing, or whether he would just give them a chance to draw their weapons. Before he could decide Akira said something sharply in Japanese. There was a slight movement behind him and Glenn whirled, spinning to cover the figures behind him. There were two of them in the doorway, dark silhouettes. They had wakazashis, but were sheathing them. Wolf you idiot. They could have carved you into cubes. He turned back to Akira nervously. He didn't like having armed men behind him but he didn't think they would risk attacking him while he was pointing a gun at their leader.
        "I know you to be a man of honour," Akira said. "If you say you had to kill our sister in self-defense I believe you. I know how much you loved her and I don't believe you would have killed her if there had been an alternative. We know what happened that night. I, too, am a man of honour. I have told you we are not here to harm you." He raised his arms and spread them wide. The movement caused the jacket to open and Glenn saw the nickel plated Glock in the shoulder holster. "If you do not believe me, kill me now." His eyes fixed steadily on Glenn.
       Still the icy bastard, Glenn thought, and after a moment lowered the Eagle. "I believe you. Why are you here?"
        Akira lowered his arms and clasped his hands in front of him, his head slightly lowered. "Madame Sakkara hired us to find you."
        Glenn blinked. Jesus. She must have come back looking for him and found him gone, and w/ no other information to go off she had contacted the Takeshi family, obviously remembering the story he had told her. "How did you find me?"
        "We have been in contact w/ Kurosawa Sensei. He called us when you returned to America because he feared the Mafia would get to you first. We had been in touch w/ him earlier and convinced him of our intentions. He did not know where you were - you were too careful to tell even him that - but yesterday we received a call from Isis International. You had kindly left a telephone number for us to track down."
        "Yeah. Quick, too. You're as efficient as ever, Akira."
        He bowed w/ a smile. "Now we must go. Madame Sakkara requested we bring you the instant we find you."
        "Where we goin'?"
        "Chicago."
        "Jesus. Let me pack."
        "Of course."

        "What are you reading, Okami?"
        Glenn started and glanced across the room. Akira stood in the doorway. His voice was a soft whisper and no movement came from the other room. Glenn silently offered the picture to him. Akira came over and took it, lifting and angling it so that it caught the light. He had a shallow abrasion across his right cheek and the left sleeve of his Armani jacket had been torn off at the shoulder.
        "Ah. She is beautiful. This picture does her no justice."
        "Pretty as the night sky," Glenn agreed. He took the picture back, folded it up and stored it away.
       "Why does she want you? She mentioned your sword, but I feel she omitted to inform us of other things."
        Glenn shifted slightly. "I saved her life in San Francisco. She had been hit by a car."
        "Ah." Akira digested this. "You cannot tell. She healed well."
        "Uh huh…"
        "She is a remarkable woman."
        "Oh yeah."
        "Not quite human, I feel."
        Glenn looked up at him, weighing him up. Did it matter now if he revealed Purgatori's true identity? Probably not, but it would be better to be prudent. "She's out of this world."
        Akira's teeth gleamed in the dark. "A fine answer. Perhaps you even meant that literally."
        They shared a smile and sat in silence for a moment.
        "What the fk happened, Akira?"
        "When?"
        "When? Fk you mean, when? When your jet was attacked by flying cyclops lizards and we crashed into a zombie planet, that's when!"
        "Ah. I do not know, Okami. Maybe the white light that swallowed us took us someplace new. I have heard of the Bermuda Triangle stories. Maybe this was like that. A new time perhaps."
        "You're sure this is Illinois? I mean, you recognised things didn't you? Places?"
        "Yes. We crashed on the football field where I used to play before I moved back to Osaka. Why?"
        "Because I've been looking at the sky these last couple of nights. Those aren't our constellations up there."
        "That is unusual."
        Glenn had to stifle a laugh. "You could say that."
        "Unusual, but not important. We must reach the Isis buildings soon and discover what - if anything - has happened to the rest of the planet. We must find Madame Sakkara and complete our contract."
        Duty and honour. Still priorities in the land of the dead.
        "Yes." If he didn't deliver the sword, Kurosawa Sensei would have died in vain.
        "Sleep now, Okami. I will take the rest of the watch now that I am awake."
        "Domo." Glenn stood up and stretched, watching Akira cross to the window and sneak a careful glance out. "Takeshi-san?"
        "Yes?"
        "You know I wouldn't have hurt her if I had any option."
        Akira was silent for a long time. "I know, Okami-san. If there is anyone to blame, it is our brother for his dishonourable actions. Our sister was always a little too…enthusiastic when it came to family matters. She should have allowed us to investigate first."
        "I am so sorry. I still miss her."
        "And I too. But you acted correctly in refusing Masao's orders. The cosequences could not have been foreseen."
        "Thank you, Takeshi-san."
        "Sleep, Okami. We must make distance tomorrow."

        They set out at eight o'clock. Whatever had affected the people of this world had not affected other things : the power was still on and the food in the house they had commandeered was still fine. They set off well fed and refreshed after washing.
        They had twenty-three miles to go. They could have hot-wired a vehicle, but Glenn and Akira agreed that the engine noise might attract attention, and that could lead to trouble. They were still in the suburbs here, and as they made their way through the thin mist you could almost believe it was just any normal sleepy early morning. The birds were chirping in the trees and the soft silence was soothing, the kind Glenn enjoyed when he used to do his Tai Chi exercises at five in the morning. It would probably change when they hit the city outskirts though - logic suggested that there would be a lot more of the zombies there than there was here. They had been caught unawares at the crash site and had lost two men. Maybe two dozen ghouls had jumped them, and Glenn wondered what might have happened to them had they actually made it to O'Hare.

        If she had been angry before, when she reached New Necropolis nine days later she was absolutely livid. She stood on the main deck as they entered the harbour, all prepared to acknowledge the cheers and adoration of the crowds as usual, and nobody was there. She was furious. Here she was, fighting and risking her life to enrich and protect their kingdom and the ungrateful whelps couldn't even be bothered to turn up and show their appreciation.
        By the time they docked and began unloading the wounded Purgatori was in a thunderous mood. Demonica and Diabolica and six or seven members of the royal court were the only people who had turned up. Purgatori strode off the jetty and stormed past them, leaving them hurrying after her. She ignored the Royal carriage - the one she and Lexus had made love in not so long ago - and set off for her pyramid on foot.
        "M-mistress?"
        She ignored Demonica, and determined that if that blonde imp didn't stop bothering her she would be one very sorry young lady.
        "Mistress? Mistress!"
        Purgatori spun on her heel, her eyes blazing. Demonica cowered before her, her eyes as wide as saucers. "What?" Purgatori hissed. "You better have something interesting to say girl, or I'll pull your tail off and feed it to you!"
        Demonica shrank back. "But - but - " she squeaked. "It's not my fault! I told everybody at court but nobody paid any attention! NObody went to tell the citizens!"
        "Nobody's interested," Diabolica stated and her tone clearly implied that they were right not to.
        Purgatori almost tore her heart out on the spot, but something took her attention : Demonica. Normally she and her sister were in close contact, always holding hands or hugging, giving rise to rumours among the more coarse members of the city that they were lovers, despite their almost constant flirting w/ the warriors and rich men of the city, but now Demonica stood a few feet away and wouldn't even look at her sister except for a few nervous glances. When Diabolica had spoken Purgatori had seen a look flicker across Demonica's face that seemed to say "she's going to get killed for that. Good."
        Purgatori stabbed her finger at Demonica. "You. Come w/ me. The rest of you get to the docks. Get the troops unloaded and the galleys moved to the repair docks."
        She strode off, hearing only one set of footsteps following her. When they had put enough distance between them she stopped and faced Demonica, a little ashamed of herself when she saw the young girl flinch. "What's going on here Demonica?" she asked, keeping as much of the rage out of her voice as she could.
        Demonica swallowed. "M-mistress -"
        "I'm not going to hurt you Demonica, just tell me what is going on!"
        "I don't know!" Demonica wailed. "Everybody's…not…not who they were!" She flinched again, perhaps expecting a slap across the face - or worse - for such a stupid sounding comment, but Purgatori just stood and looked at her.
        "Including your sister?"
        Demonica's eyes flooded. "Yes. I've been visiting each of the outposts to keep up w/ requisitions and reports, and every time I come back it's worse. All the soldiers, the court staff...even some of the important citizens we know." She hitched back a sob, wringing her hands. "I...I've just been locked in my room for the past two days. I don't like anybody anymore," she finished miserably.
        Purgatori gazed at her pyramid w/out seeing it. What the Hell could she do? If they were citizens of another city she would have exterminated them w/out a second's hesitation, but these were her people. She had fought too long and hard, waited too long for this one dream - her own empire - to let it go w/out a fight, or destroy it out of hand. These people were hers, they had loved her, worshipped her.
       So? They have betrayed me! Kill the worthless scum!
       No, no, no! Hold the rage Purgatori. I'll NOT let this get away from me, I WON'T! There must be some..logical explanaton…Could someone be doing this deliberately to manipulate me into destroying that which I have sought to have for so long? That white slut could be behind this. Is she? Is she even still alive?
        "Erm, mistress?"
        "What Demonica?" she said distantly.
        "An emissary arrived and requested an audience w/ you."
        "Who? From where?"
        "He calls himself Adam. He claims to be from a city to the South."
        "Which one?" Purgatori asked impatiently.
        "He wouldn't say."
         "Then tell him to get lost." She began walking again, slower this time, giving herself time to think. A couple of sentries  passed her but they gave no reaction at seeing their Empress in all her finery.
        "Erm, he said it was a matter of utmost urgency. He, um, said your life depended on it…"
        Purgatori paused. Was this more of the same stupidity, or did this mysterious person actually know something? Might his information have something to do w/ what was going on here? "Tell him I will see him tomorrow morning at seven o'clock. Advise him that if he is wasting my time I will grant him an audience w/ Sebek."
        "Yes Mistress." Demonica went off to carry out her orders, casting wary glances at everyone she passed.
        Purgatori made her way back to the pyramid and swept past the guards, ignoring their salutes. Upstairs in her penthouse she was momentarily enraged to find Sebek had returned through the portal that linked his pool w/ the river eighteen miles away and had brought another carcass of a water buffalo w/ him. How many time had she told him about doing that? He surfaced in his pool and rumbled a deep growl of welcome and Purgatori couldn't help smiling at him as he slid silently through the water to where she stood.
        "Don't try and butter me up, you're a very naughty boy. I've told you before about bringing your kills in here, haven't I?" Sebek just opened his jaws to let her scratch his tongue. She did so - she could never stay angry at him for long. "You're still my friend, aren't you?" He growled in agreement. "Yes, I thought so," Purgatori smiled, kissing his snout.

        Purgatori sat on her throne, irritably drumming her fingers against the armrest as she waited for the emissary to arrive. Her Elite Guard, the Jackals, lined both sides of the hall as they always did, a display of her power. Her mood hadn't improved during the night, and when the main doors opened she shifted her position slightly, readjusting herself to be able to jump down and damage him severely if he wasted her time.
        The man was of average height, thin and wiry and dressed in gaudy red and green silks. He stopped and bowed w/ an elaborate flourish.
        "Greetings! I am Adam Appel from the Southern Desert city -"
        "I don't think so," Purgatori snapped. "Do you think you're dealing w/ an amateur here? Shed that ridiculous phantasm, Pagan, and tell me how you got into my world!"
        The figure rippled and shifted and Pagan stood before her, that trademark idiotic grin on his face. The fact that none of her Jackals showed any surprise at someone having sneaked into the throne room did not go unnoticed by Purgatori. "Sorry toots, I didn't think you'd let me in if - UUGH!!" He crumpled to the ground as a blast of energy hammered into him.
        "I am Empress here, maggot! Address me properly or I'll feed you your skin!"
        "Oof! Uh - yeah, alright (sheeesh, touchy!)" Pagan got back to his feet and straightened his cap. "Greetings and salutations my proud Queen! I bring you important news about your reign."
        Purgatori's eyes narrowed. "What of it?"
        "It's over, toots."
        For a moment she almost couldn't believe what she had heard, then it sank in and she rose slowly, her eyes blazing. "Oh, really?" she purred icily. "Says who?"
        "The emminent Lord Drakkan. You won't have heard of him, but he's very familiar w/ you." He backed up a step as Purgatori walked towards him. "Now, don't be rash, toots. Don't shoot the messenger and all that…"
        "Shut up, maggot." She flexed her fingers and her talons slid out. Pagan backed off rapidly. "Hold him," she snapped to her troops. No one moved. Purgatori stopped, an awful sense of foreboding stealing over her. "Are you deaf? Vyrryn!"
        Vyrryn just looked at her.
        "Vyrryn?" Pagan said happily.
        "Yes, my Lord?"
        "Shoot that old bat, would you?"
        He was fast : the crossbow came up in an instant, the bolt snapping through the air. She was faster : she snatched the arrow out of the air and crumpled it in her fist.
        "Ooh! Impressive!" Pagan applauded. He gestured at the rest of the troops. "Take her alive. Not unhurt, just alive."
        Purgatori was stunned - everyone moved against her. Vyrryn's betrayal had shocked her - how many times had he fought by her side? He had taken an arrow for her once that had nearly killed him. Someone grabbed her and fury took away the confusion. She whirled and tore their face off, flinging it w/ a wet slap onto the floor. Her first instinct was to vapourise them all, old friends or not, but before she could make that painful decision three spears rammed through her from different directions and she howled, twisting helplessly on the poles. Enchanted weapons : she could feel the magick eating away at her already. Pagan came around to face her. W/ a scream of pure hatred she lunged for him. The soldiers twisted the spears and she jarred to a stop w/ a shriek of pain. Pagan raised a hand and pale yellow flame swept over her, scalding her w/out consuming her, a kind of magick she had never come across before....or had she? It seemed to have an aftertaste she regognised, but she was in too much pain to concentrate.
        "You…BASTARDS!!!" She grabbed one of the thick spearshafts and snapped it, apparently determined to pull herself off the stakes and tear Pagan apart. A studded metal club cracked into the base of her skull and she flopped, hanging limply on the poles like a flag w/out wind. There was complete silence in the hall. No one had made so much as a grunt.
        "Dear me, she is a feisty one!" Pagan chuckled. He walked over and lifted her head by one of her horns. Purgatori's eyes were half-closed, blank and vacant. A thin trail of blood ran down form the corner of her lips. "Hello! Hello?" He slapped her face and when he got no response he glared at the soldier behind her w/ the club. "You moron! If she's dead you will redefine the word 'agony'! Take her away and lock her up while we prepare the Gate for Drakkan. And be SURE you secure her! Don't take any chances!"
        They pulled their spears out of her, the barbed heads coming out of her flesh w/ repulsive sucking sounds as they dragged out some of her innards. Purgatori crumpled to the floor and two of the soldiers picked her up roughly while the third lead them out the main doors towards the stairs that led to the dungeons. Their boots clacked sharply off the polished marble flooring, counterpointing the dull scrape of Purgatori's dragging feet. As they passed the elevator that led to Purgatori's chambers the doors parted w/ a soft sigh and a strangled sob made them halt.
        "Mistress! What happened?!"
        Demonica dropped the folders she was carrying and darted over, trying to wrestle Purgatori from the soldiers' grip so that she could hold her herself. Busy struggling w/ them, she never saw the third guard raise his spear at her.
        The distraction was all that Purgatori needed. She wrenched her right arm free of the guard's grip and drove the side of her hand into his throat, snapping his neck. Demonica jeked back in surprise, bumping into the third soldier, and by the time he pushed her away his other comrade was dead too. A fist smashed into his temple and he dropped w/ a gurgle, crumpling w/ a clatter of armour plating.
        Purgatori staggered and fell to her knees. Demonica rushed over and grabbed her, shuddering at the sight of the wounds.
        "Mis- "
        "…le…vator…" Purgatori gasped.
        Demonica turned and saw the doors sliding shut. Instinctively she kicked out at a spear by her feet. It skittered across the floor into the car. The door buffers hit its shaft and rebounded fully open. Demonica slung her arms under Purgatori's armpits and half-dragged, half-carried her into the elevator. The doors tried to close again, and this time rebounded off Purgatori's legs. Demonica could hear footsteps echoing into the hallway from one of the adjoining corridors. She yanked Purgatori all the way in, stumbling back and banging her shoulders off the rear wall of the elevator car. The doors closed, hit the spearshaft again, and opened fully again. Demonica dropped Purgatori w/ a tiny squeaked "Ooooh!" of frustration and fright and kicked the spear out of the car. She could hear shouts of alarm, pounding feet. She punched the penthouse button hard enough to dent the engraved gold surrounds. The door didn't move.
        "Eeewww! This isn't fair!" She hit the button again, pressing it rapidly. A soldier sprinted into view, took in the situation in an instant and drew and levelled his gun. "Eeeeewww - !"
        The doors slid shut. The bullet smacked into the wall an inch from her ear w/ the ringing bang of a sledgehammer on an anvil. The doors sealed and two more muffled bangs echoed in the car. Demonica didn't care though - they were moving, the elevator rising swiftly and smoothly up to Purgatori's private rooms.
        Demonica crouched down, giving a small "Yike!" as her hair pulled painfully : a few strands had been jammed into the wall by the bullet. "Mistress! What happened!"
        Purgatori's teeth were bared in a grimace of agony. Her sorcery wasn't working properly - she tried to heal herself and something blocked the flow of her power; it trickled through her instead of flooding. Something familiar about it, but she was too dizzy to concentrate. She lay shuddering on the floor, trying to get her mind working. Demonica stared at her, her eyes wide and wet, shaking almost as much as Purgatori.
        The elevator doors opened into Purgatori's chambers. Demonica made a move to pick up Purgatori but the vampiress waved her away, panting. No point fleeing, Purgatori - nowhere to go. Can I defend here? Elevator's the only way up, but…Magick. I can counter these enchantments, but I don't think I've got the time. No. No time. What's it doing? Blocking my power or eating it..? Bastards. I won't let them have it. I…I…
        The elevator doors began to close. Demonica stuck her arm in their way and they retreated. A muffled explosion reverberated up the shaft, trembling the floor of the car. "Purgatori? What are we going to do?"
        Wasn't that the pertinent question? Think, Purgatori, think!
        A shadow fell across the open doorway. Demonica whirled in fright but it was only Sebek, looking for his mistress.
        "D…mon…"
        "Yes mistress?"
        "C-come here. Lis…listen."

        Garryk tied off the trigger tripline to the snare and stood up, giving the trap a quick look over to make sure it was not readily visible.
        "Good haul," Anton said from behind.
        Garryk walked over to where Anton was securing the lock on the last of the cages. There were six cages in the wide flat-bottomed boat - four of them held animals that had been captured by the clan's traps. "Damn good haul," he agreed. He walked over to the nearest cage and peered inside. "Toucan. When did we last see a toucan around here?"
        "Two years, at least. Must be a wanderer from the South-East."
        "Yeah. Purgatori's gonna pay well for him, she's been after another toucan for a long time."
        "Uh huh. We're gonna be rich," Anton smirked. "You wanna check the last trap or get this load back home?"
        "Check it. Don't wanna leave anything hanging around if it's been sprung."
        "Nope."
        The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon. They untied the boat and let the current take them a mile downstream, moored up and headed off into the woods that spread for about a mile-and-a-half from the river banks.
        "Maybe we should start heading further South," Anton mused. It was a topic they seemed to circle back to every few weeks. "That's the best place for parrots."
        "Best place for getting killed, too."
        "Ah, screw the Saarga. Y'know, if we could get a force of Blood Warriors we could take an area and build a good fort right by the forests. Get established there and we could drive the Saarga back. Then we - "
        "What the Hell is that?"
        " - could - huh?" Anton broke off, glanced at Garryk and followed his gaze. "Whoah!"
        Their trap had been sprung. Something w/ long yellow fur had stepped on the tripwire and had been yanked into the air in the net of meshed vines.
        "Damn, what is that?"
        "G-get me down you - you imbeciles!"
        Anton jumped in surprise. "Whaat?!"
        "Gimme a hand," Garryk said. Together they lowered the net to the ground and a very bedraggled Demonica struggled out of the coarse mesh, wincing at the movement of her cramped muscles.
        "Oooh, my tail's gone to sleep," she muttered darkly, rubbing the offending appendage.
        "Who the Hell are you?" Anton blinked. "And what the Hell are you doing in our trap?"
        "Idiot!" Demonica raged. She pushed her dirty tangled hair out of her face and punched the big man angrily. Anton didn't take kindly to that. He shoved her hard and she stumbled back.
        "Don't get uppity w/ me girl."
        "'Uppity'?!" Demonica screeched, stamping her foot. "I've been up there since yesterday morning! I've been rained on, squashed up and cramped and its been boiling hot! Do you think I did it on purpose you...you stupid big moron!" She jumped back as Anton took a step forward angrilly, tripped on a root and sat down hard. "Ow!"
        "Listen, brat. Do you think it's a good idea to start insulting big strong men when you're trapped in a forest w/ them…all alone?"
        "Alright, alright, settle down," Garryk said hurriedly, stepping in before things could get out of hand. "Don't worry girl, he's just playing. We won't harm you." He stuck his hand out to her and after a slight wary pause she took it. "I know you don't I? Aren't you one of Purgatori's officials?"
        Demonica got to her feet, her chin lifted slightly. She loved to be recognised. "Yes. I'm one of her highest and personal assistants," she said, trying not to sound as though she was trying to sound matter-of-fact.
        "So what are you doing here?" Anton said gruffly, looking her up and down. "You normally walk around forests in a miniskirt?"
        Demonica's face fell. "No…I need to find someone called Snake Eyes. He's a Marshal."
        "He's our clan chief," Garryk said. "What's going on?"
        Demonica's lip trembled. "We've been attacked. Purgatori's b-been - been - hurt! She might even b-be d-d-dead now!"
        "What? When?" Anton asked incredulously. "Who by?"
        "Never mind," Garryk interjected. "Let's get home first, and quickly. If New Necropolis has fallen we could all be in deep sht."

        An hour later Demonica found herself in their fort. It was a small complex of single-storey buildings, constructed from wood and dark volcanic rock and set on thick wooden stilts, at the edge of a wide lake that sat placidly by the base of a modest mountain range. A pair of streams flowed down the nearest flat-topped conical mountain, turned into waterfalls as they dropped over the mouths of several large caves, then meandered together and joined to form the single river that fed the lake.
        They moored at a pier and Garryk helped Demonica out of the boat. "He'll be w/ the Salamanders," he said. "You're not scared of lizards are you?"
        "No," Demonica smiled, thinking of Sebek.
        "Good."
        He lead her through the village and up a pretty path to one of the waterfalls. The cave behind was smooth and even, as though it had been burrowed out rather than hacked out by men w/ tools, and it led down into the mountain on a shallow decline, lit by evenly spaced burning torches. It was getting hot, and Demonica wasn't surprised when the tunnel opened into a huge cavern lit orange by the glow of its lava pool - they were inside a volcano.
        There was a large Salamander basking on a rock near where they emerged. It looked to be almost twenty feet long, its black and yellow leathery hide slightly faded and loose looking, folded w/ deep wrinkles. Garryk stepped nearer, as close as he could get to the heat of the lava and the lizard raised its head slowly to look at him.
        "Garryk," it said softly, its voice surprisingly musical. "You are well?"
        "I am well," Garryk answered w/ a smile. "And you, Shenna? You seem sleepy."
        Shenna sighed. "Too often these days. Soon I shall sleep forever. My time is nearly over here."
        "I shall miss you," Garryk said simply. Salamander's weren't much for patronising denials, and while humans would have half-expected a rejoinder, trying to make some dismissive comment about the reality of her dwindling lifespan would have been considered an insult.
        "You have a curious companion, Garryk."
        "This is Demonica, an aide to Empress Purgatori."
        "Ah. The one who flies."
        "The one who flies," Garryk agreed.
        "Um…hello..." Demonica said hesitantly.
        "Greetings," Shenna sighed. "Though she did it for her own purposes, your Empress saved some of our number when she fought the Centaurs in the East."
        "You must tell me that story sometime, Shenna," Garryk said. "I crave your pardon for my rudeness, but I must find Cobra immediately."
        "Of course. He is around the corner, he was talking to Sheel."
        "I thank you. We will talk later."
        "Yes," Shenna said sleepily, her eyes already drooping.
        "Come on."
        "Wait…" Demonica said hurrying after him. "'Cobra'?"
        "His real name is Cobra Chiricahua," Garryk said w/out waiting. "Come on."
        The lava pool was crescent shaped. They walked around the inner curve on a narrow ledge that seemed dangerously unstable to Demonica, and she breathed a sigh of relief when it widened out into a wide plateau again…a sigh that turned into a little gasp when she saw Snake Eyes.
        "Cobra!" Garryk greeted him. Cobra excused himself from the Salamander, stood up and came over. "We need to talk urgently."
        Snake Eyes gripped his hand briefly and his eyes flicked to Demonica. "You're back early Garryk. What's wrong?"
        "This is Demonica, aide to Purgatori. She says there's a rebellion in New Necropolis."
        Snake Eyes turned to Demonica and bowed slightly. "Cobra Chiricahua, at your service."
        Demonica gave a tiny nervous giggle - she was entranced. Cobra was of medium height but very well built w/ rock hard muscles and long black hair that fell to his shoulder blades. He had a soft face that made him look young, and the tattoed black stripe across his nose and down his cheeks that marked him as a Marshal. It was his eyes that made Demonica feel all watery, the eyes that gave him his nickname - they were scarlet w/ yellow irises, the pupils vertically slitted. Demonica thought they were just dreamy.
        "I'm Demonica," she said, trying not to grin w/ delight like a giddy schoolgirl.
        "Demonica. I am honoured to meet you."
        Demonica gave him a brief happy smile. "My mi- erm, Purgatori sent me to find you. We need help."
        Cobra's eyes looked her up and down. "We'll talk in my hut. You look like you could use a bath and some food too."
        Demonica wilted slightly, looking both very weary and very pretty. "Yes," she said weakly. "I'm exhausted. I ended up in Sebek's river, and I got stuck in a net. It was very hot," she said plaintively. "I nearly fainted. I haven't eaten for three days."
        "We can remedy that."
        Demonica managed to do a convincing stumble as he walked past and he caught her as she fell against him. "Oooh! I'm sorry, I'm just…so tired," she said, her arms wrapped tightly around his massive chest purely to prevent her falling over, you understand.
        Snake Eyes swept her off her feet easily and his smile seemed to suggest that he wasn't fooled at all. "Better?"
        "Mm hmm!"
        "Garryk, run ahead and prepare some food would you?"
        "Sure," Garryk grinned.
        "And call a meeting of the seniors. Looks like we're gonna be going to war."

        Purgatori sat in the cave, looking blankly into the flickering flames. The cave was big, stretching deep into the mountain, and it indeed had once been the home of some very large animal, an unknown time ago. There was a liberal scattering of bones right at the back of the cave, and judging by the size of some of them whatever had killed their owners and eaten them must have been of truly prodigious size.
        She snapped off some branches from the dead trees by the cave entrance, laid them out in a simple mystical design around a skull and some ribs taken from the back of the cave, and now a large fire was crackling cheerfully between her and the mouth of the cave. She was thawing out nicely - physically, anyway. Mentally, she made the weather outside seem like a tropical summer afternoon. She gazed into the fire, watching the dancing shapes of its flames and trying to stop herself from glancing over at Glenn’s body every few seconds.
        The wind seemed to be calming down slightly. She shifted position, moving her cold feet closer to the heat.
        Glenn Wolf sat up.
        Purgatori gasped and scrabbled back, her mouth agape. Wolf paused, as if wondering what he was doing here, and then slowly turned his head to gaze at her. Her mouth dried up. His skin was pale, the blood standing out in garish contrast like smeared lipstick. His long hair was hanging in tangled strings over his dead, flat white eyes. His chest was just repulsive, tattered and ripped, the coagulating blood frozen into smooth scarlet stalactites.
        "Wolf…" It came out as a dry whisper.
        "Bitch." The word sent a wave of huge goose-bumps down her back. "You killed me you traitorous little bitch!"
        "No! No it wasn’t me!"
        "I saved your life!" He scrambled to his feet and lurched forward. She could hear the frozen muscles creaking and cracking. "I came through a world of the dead to save you."
        "Glenn, please," she whispered, cringing down as he struggled forward. All the power had gone from her limbs.
        "After all I’ve done for you." He was only feet away now. She could smell his dead skin. "You miserable, ungrateful, traitorous whore!"
        His cold dead hands reached out and clamped around her throat and she jerked awake w/ a shriek, curled up into a tight ball. Her cry rebounded back to her w/ a hollow echo and she jumped, still unnerved by the nightmare. She sat up fast and looked fearfully over to where Wolf’s corpse lay, half-expecting to see him on his feet.
        He hadn’t moved.
        She was shaking, and not w/ the cold. She wiped the tears off her face and edged closer to the dying fire. The wind outside had died, leaving an unsettling silence in the place of the raging storm. It was still black outside - she had no idea what time it was, or how long she had been sleeping. Come to think of it, she had no idea how long night was on this world, either. She felt better now - physically if not mentally. The blood she had taken had done its job and her body was perfect again. Whatever sorcery that medallion in her chest had been pumping into her was gone : she could feel her own growing power sitting w/in her, as quiet and as deadly as a nuclear missile in its silo - unobtrusive but reassuring, so plain and yet so phenomenally powerful.
        She pointed to the fire and the flames rose up smoothly, warming her skin. She didn’t stop shaking. She glanced over at his body again and felt more tears well up.
       You killed me you traitorous little bitch!
        She hated to cry, hated to appear weak. No. It’s not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of love. I might be a tough bitch, but I’m not an UNFEELINGbitch. Wolf would never know that, though. She was shaking w/ rage now. Oh, how that little fkr Pagan would suffer. What she would do to him would make her stay in her own torture chambers look like a luxury holiday. She would spend her days and nights inventing new torments for him and keep him alive for ever.
        And still it wouldn’t bring Glenn back.
        "Sakkara."
        Purgatori jumped as if goosed, one fleeting panicky thought almost managing to convince her that her nightmare had come true and it was Wolf speaking, despite the fact that it was a female voice. She was on her feet in a microsecond, facing the voice in a slightly crouched, well-balanced aikido stance, ready to kill in an instant.
        All the strength went out of her.
        A woman stood before her, lit in warm orange from the fire and framed by the gaping black mouth of the cave. She was slim and athletic, her body finely toned and covered w/ creamy white skin. Her eyes were vivid sapphire blue, her ruby lips soft and sweet looking. She had a small beauty spot above her lips, to the left of her nose, and her long black hair gleamed like a raven’s wing. There was an arctic world outside, but she was dressed in a revealing tight robe of white silk. Her hair was strung w/ golden beads and an elaborate jewelled necklace draped over her shoulders. She wore a golden headdress in the shape of a falcon, its wings hanging down by her ears. Purgatori had never seen her before but there was no mistaking who she was.
        Purgatori fell to her knees, her head almost touching the ground. "My Goddess!" she gasped.
        "Sakkara," Isis said again. Her voice was like sweet honey. "My poor child. Come here."
        "I - I - " Purgatori stammered. On top of everything else, she just couldn’t handle this. After almost four thousand years of pain and torment, of struggle and heartbreak she was finally here. A hand, so soft and caressing, almost a lover’s touch, cupped the top of her head, stroking her hair.
        "Stand up Sakkara. Face me."
        "I…n-no." She was a slavegirl before her Queen all over again. In the course of her lifetime, Purgatori had encountered many different creatures, many of whom had been considered deities - in point of fact, some people considered Purgatori herself to be a goddess - but although people worshipped them, Purgatori herself didn’t, and as such didn’t consider them to be gods or goddesses. There was one person whom she did consider a goddess, a person she had prayed to faithfully for as long as she could remember, a person she thanked when good fortune smiled on her and to whom she clung to in times of trouble and misery, a person she had tried to believe had been watching over her during her long and tumultous life, and that person - that goddess - was standing in front of her.
        "Stand up Sakkara," Isis said. "Would you deny me a look at my most beloved child after all these years?"
        Purgatori started and looked up at her in surprise.
        "Yes my child," Isis smiled fondly. "I have been watching over you all your life, just as you hoped."
        Purgatori felt drunk. A goddess was standing beside her, telling her that she loved her. The tears in her eyes were tears of pure joy.
        "Stand before me." Purgatori did so and then, wonder of wonders, Isis slipped her arms around her and hugged her. "My poor child," Isis sighed. "Such pain. Such loneliness." She could feel Purgatori trembling. "Sssshhh…" She held the vampire gently, stroking her hair as she sobbed against her shoulder. "Ssshhh…"

        "I need to talk to you."
        Purgatori was nestled up to her goddess, utterly content and at peace. She felt so warm, so comfortable, so loved. There was a soothing aura around Isis, some indefinable presence that was so relaxing and reassuring. She felt as if she could stay like this forever, but her goddess had spoken, and she wouldn’t dream of ignoring her. She pulled away reluctantly and gazed at Isis. Those blue eyes seemed slightly troubled.
        "Yes my Goddess? Is something wrong?"
        Isis caressed her cheek. "Yes my child. I have something to tell you, and something to ask of you."
        "Anything, my Goddess."
        Isis’ eyes flickered, a brief haunted look. "My sweet child. I fear you may not like what I have to tell you. I fear for how it may make you may feel about me."
        "W-what? Why?"
        "All the pain and lonelines you have experienced. All the torture," Isis said quietly. "I am its cause."
        "What?" Purgatori pulled away, her old hairtrigger reaction at the thought of being played taking over. She saw the look of such sorrow on Isis’ face, saw the pain in her eyes, and her claws slid back in. "I…I don’t understand."
        "Come child. Sit by the fire w/ me; I have a story to tell you."
        Purgatori hesitated then moved aside to let Isis near the flames. If anyone else had made such a revelation, Purgatori would have been cleaning their entrails from under her fingernails right about now, but although her old rage was bubbling away viciously she forced herself to calm down, or at least keep it under control. How could she kill Isis, the goddess who had been looking after her all these years?
        You call that looking after you?! Kill her! Make her beg for her life!
        Oh, this was so unfair. And so sadly typical. After millennia of praying, her goddess finally turns up, gives her a bit of a cuddle…then tells her that she caused all her life’s pain. Why am I not surprised? Purgatori thought bitterly. Everything that I have ever loved has died or been taken away or betrayed me.
        "I didn’t betray you, Sakkara," Isis said softly.
        Purgatori flinched like a child having been caught misbehaving by a parent. "…but…"
        "Sit."
        Purgatori sat numbly, her mind trying to tear her in two directions at once. Part of her wanted to desperately hold onto Isis, to cherish this time together; the other, stronger part wanted her to punish Isis, to make her pay for four thousand years of misery.
        Isis looked up from the flames. Purgatori shifted slightly under that gaze. "I come from a race known as the Chaos Lords. There were many of us at one time, and we existed before the creation of the cosmos you inhabited."
        "Yes, I have heard of you. Your battle w/ Armageddon created everything."
        "Just as his death changed everything. After the fight, the Chaos War, most of us went our different ways. Some vanished from sight, others took residence on various worlds to create their own kingdoms. Eventually, as the newly formed cosmos gave birth to new life forms some of us became gods to lesser races. And yet, as w/ all races, there were those of us that wanted more. Some, such as Genocide, wanted only a return to the old ways, before Creation. Others simply wanted to exploit the new cosmos and enslave the races that evolved. A bitter war erupted between those who respected the lives that were created by our original war and those who didn’t. The war has been balanced in near stalemate for thousands of years."
        "Drakkan told me as much," Purgatori said.
        "Yes…Drakkan is the reason you came to be."
        "What? How?"
        Isis sighed and shifted her gaze to the fire, watching the dancing flames in silence for a long while. Purgatori watched her, her eyes never leaving that serene and beautiful face. Isis had been reputed to be beautiful, but even the most flattering picture or statue of her didn’t do her justice.
        "As our war became more and more violent we turned to sorcery in a bid to try and end it before things got out of hand. Our divination spells revealed the future to us and we saw that eventually Drakkan would find a way into the mortal planes."
        "But," Purgatori frowned, "can’t he travel here anyway? As you have?"
        "No," Isis said. "Crossing into different planes of existence is extremely difficult and requires prodigious energy - so much energy that it could conceivably destroy an entire solar system if control of that energy was lost." Purgatori’s eyes narrowed in lust, already imagining herself acquiring such power. Isis smiled thinly. "Yes. I imagine you would delight in wielding such power…Anyway. Crossing between worlds - crossing dimensional planes - as you do, is simple compared to crossing planes of existence. This is one of the reasons that gods do not appear frequently to mortals. It is easy enough to communicate or send visions, but to transport oneself is very difficult and dangerous. As w/ all things, some people are more powerful in particular areas than others. Drakkan is not as capable or as powerful in transvection magic as we are. His magickal abilities were mostly destroyed when I fought w/ him...I killed his family and robbed him of a great deal of his powers. His strength lies in his armies and his martial sorcery, his ability to inspire fanatical following in people. We knew, though, that if he managed to break into these planes the consequences could be catastrophic. We set up a magickal shield to try and contain him, to act as a safeguard. Unfortunately this part of our plans was ruined by Armageddon’s death : w/ the warping of reality and the recreation of all matter, our spells were rendered useless, as they did not relate to this new existence. However, our main plan to defeat him was already set in motion. We had created a Prophecy based on our vision. It was foreseen that one born of mixed blood would be our saviour, one w/ the power to master all forms of magick." Isis looked at Purgatori, her sapphire eyes glowing. "Your mother seduced a human warrior who was the offspring of one of the Fallen Angels - another of our number who fell from grace w/ Lucifer."
        Purgatori’s jaw was hanging open. "I...you…"
        "Sshh, child. My time is short; allow me to finish my story. You were born of mixed blood - human blood of a warrior lineage mixed w/ the magickal blood of a Fallen Angel named Kathos, and the powerful Chaotic blood of your mother."
        "But…All offspring of the Fallen were corrupt somehow…"
        "Yes. Your father was a lycanthrope. But do not worry; as you will already know, you did not inherit his lunar obsession. It is from him that you acquired the ability to shape-shift, and your enhanced senses."
        That startled Purgatori. A wolf. Again, a wolf…of a type. "My parents - who are they? You must have - "
        "Sakkara - be silent."
        "Sorry my Goddess," Purgatori said. She was bursting w/ inquisitiveness. She desperately wanted to know about her parents, her family, but she didn’t dare interrupt Isis. Although she wasn’t afraid that Isis would hurt her, being the child of the Prophecy and all, she did not want to anger her or do anything that might reduce Isis’ love for her.
        Isis reached out and stroked her arm. "Please, be patient. There are more important things to discuss."
        "Yes, my Goddess."
        "We set in motion a Prophecy and expended huge amounts of our power guiding your life and shaping events around you."
        "You…you meant for me to become a vampire?"
        "Yes. You needed to be immortal. You needed to acquire an amalgamation of power and the easiest way to do that is to absorb it through blood…you are unique in your ability to absorb powers that way." She trailed off, looking at Purgatori w/ that sad, haunted expression again. She opened her mouth then closed it w/ a sigh and was silent for a moment. "We guided you and shaped your life. Almost everything went according to plan."
        " ‘Almost’?"
        "We lost you on a couple of occassions : once Drakkan became wise he tried to stop us and stepped up his war against us. Whilst fighting him we lost control over you, and other events we were trying to control, such as Armageddon's return. We knew he was to die, and you would absorb some of his energy, but this warping of reality was something we did not anticipate. It was unfortunate that you killed Odin during one such period, he was to be one of our greatest allies. That matter was slightly redeemed by your absorbing his power, but still…"
        "And my battle w/ Lady Death," Purgatori said flatly.
        "No."
        "W-what?"
        "That was foreseen long ago : we knew Armageddon would return to Earth. We needed you to absorb his power - it is his power that enabled you to cross worlds, create Gates. His blood could not be absorbed so we needed to get his power into you another way. To do that we manipulated things so that he would give that power freely…by resurrecting you."
        "But…that only happened because I was on Earth, cast there by Lady Demon…."
        "Yes. The Prophecy states that you had to return to Earth, to absorb power and learn from other powerful creatures."
        "Jade? Dracula?"
        "Amongst others."
        "You mean…you orchestrated my fall from grace? My humiliation in Hell and my exile to that horrendous planet?" Purgatori asked tightly.
        "Yes."
        Purgatori’s jaws were clenched. All that pain and misery. Being tortured in Hell and forced to fight in the Arena, Lucifer and his demons laughing at her defeat. Grovelling in the icy Frisco winter for sips of blood.
        "I know you are angry, but please hear me out. We did that to make you stronger, not to torture you."
        "Really?" Purgatori snapped, forgetting herself. "Including my time as a slave? All the whippings I endured? All the loneliness? You put me through that?"
        Isis hung her head. "Yes. The Prophecy stated that you had to be turned vampiric - you would not have done that if you had not been angry at your betrayal."
        "I never wanted it! All I wanted was a friend! A lover!"
        "It was never destined to be, not w/ Ostraca."
        "You…you had all my friends massacred…?"
        "We…nudged certain players in certain directions. You must understand that sometimes our intervention can be very limited. We put Ramses and Queen Ostraca together : it was his choice to have everyone killed instead of just banished or enslaved, but ultimately the end result was the same."
        "You could have failed. What if I hadn’t managed to escape from the guards?"
        "But you did."
        "But what if I hadn’t?"
        "But you did," Isis said pointedly.
        Purgatori was silent, remembering the storm, the rain puddles and the carpets. "But my fight w/ that pale whore," she said finally. "I nearly died."
        "You were supposed to. She too was guided by our hand. You would have killed her had we not tipped the balance."
        "You acted against me?!" Purgatori exploded. "You helped her do that to me?!"
        "As I said, we needed to. You needed that power. Lady Death was just another of our pawns, unknowingly doing our will."
        That raised a spitless grin. "Wouldn’t she be delighted to find that out?" Purgatori murmured.
        "Indeed. Listen Sakkara. My time is short. Save your anger and debating for when I have gone."
        "…yes, my Goddess."
        "Everything up to your creation of New Necropolis was foreseen - though, as I say, we had anticipated your empire to be on Earth, not one of eight worlds created by the warping of reality. Unfortunately, as I said, Drakkan too was aware of the Prophecy and knew the threat you posed. He began specifically plotting your downfall, and w/ the help of a powerful druid named Seance he managed to break into these planes."
        "Then why didn’t he just kill me, if I’m such a threat to him?"
        "He used your torture as a leverage to try and get us to surrender. Aside from that, that is his nature. He is grossly sadistic and egotistical."
        "You knew of my torture?"
        "He ensured we did. That was his specific purpose."
        "And you left me there for nearly three years?" Purgatori said unbelievingly. "You didn’t bother coming to save me?"
        "Don’t take that attitude, Sakkara."
        "Don’t tell me to - !!"
        "Be quiet Sakkara!"
        Purgatori bit off her words, shaking w/ rage and confusion.
       "Firstly, Drakkan has a magickal shield around your world. We cannot break in. Secondly, he would have wanted us to try that - if we appeared in your realm to save you, he would have killed us; isolated on your plane we would have been vulnerable."
        Purgatori just looked at her sullenly. She had detected no magickal shield…
        "Please Sakkara, do not be like that. You have no idea how it tore at me to have to leave you like that. Drakkan knew exactly how much pain it would cause, how much my desperation to save you would affect our unity," Isis said softly. "He tried to use my love for you to get us to bow to him. You were tortured so badly because I love you so much."
        Purgatori saw a tear glistening like a lonely diamond in the corner of Isis’ eye, and the volcanic rage that had been building inside her suddenly evaporated.
        "The other reason that Drakkan left you alive is that the Prophecy states that he will die on his own world. Since you were locked up here, and he himself is not on his world, he reasons that he is safe. He is a simplistic creature."
        "So the Prophecy is over? Finished?"
        "Not by a long way. You misunderstand the nature of a prophecy. It is not in itself an event. A prophecy merely details a certain path of events. The future is not set : most things can be changed. Some things can be altered and influenced. Some things, such as Armageddon's return or Drakkan's death, are fixed, occurring in all possible timelines : trying to alter them would mean altering far too many other variables than could actually be done. They occur in all timelines, but are perhaps triggered by different things, or occur for different reasons. Time is like a path, one of many possible, and a prophecy acts like a map to one particular path. In order to try and make certain things happen, this path is written down in the form of a prophecy, which is then used to guide actions. It is nothing more than a guide, a story for people to follow. It allows those who have parts to play in it to know their roles and act accordingly. It allows those who can, to influence events to ensure the story is played out. And, unfortunately, it allows one’s enemies to know how to sabotage you if they get their hands on that prophecy. No, Sakkara, the Prophecy may still yet be put back on track. And to do that I must ask you to do something for me."
        "To kill him? I would anyway."
        "No. We need you to save us. You are the Chosen One, prophesised to fight for us in our own dimension."
        "But if it is prophesied, then you know I will."
        "Again; no. As I have said, the Prophecy is a prediction, a foretelling of what will happen if events follow a certain course. The future is never set, that is why we have to work so hard to manipulate events. Were you to refuse then the Prophecy would become redundant and other events would transpire. Your part is not set, which is why we have had to work so hard to guide you."
        Purgatori was silent. She absolutely detested being used and manipulated and here she had found out that her entire existence had been just that. Everything she had done had been influenced. And yet it had been done by someone who loved her deeply. Rath had manipulated her, and she had spat in his face. Dracula had manipulated her, and she had killed him and torn out his teeth. But they had done it for their own ends. Isis had too, but the motives were different. She had been grooming Purgatori to be a powerful warrior, a saviour.
        "Why didn’t you just ask me?" Purgatori said dully. "Appear and ask me and guide me?"
        "We couldn’t. What if you had refused? That could have destroyed the entire Prophecy. Even if you had agreed, but acted differently, the outcome could have been different. Everything on the future path relied on your certain actions, on you following certain courses. Besides, we needed you as a warrior. We needed Purgatori, rather than Sakkara. W/out that killer edge you had because of your betrayal, would would not have survived some of the conflicts you had to enter."
        Purgatori was silent. It all made sense, but she hated it all the same. All her life, just one big game, a manipulation. The fact that it was a manipulation by someone who loved her and not for selfish purposes tempered her a little bit, but she still considered that if it had been anyone else but Isis sitting opposite her, they would have been in several pieces by now.
        "You said you have something to ask me," Purgatori said.
        "Yes. Drakkan’s plan is to split our forces. So far we have battled him only in our plane of existence. In these realms though, things change. Some of our magicks do not work here. Other magicks do - he has the power to corrupt and recruit the lesser lifeforms to do his bidding. He plans to bring his army through and spread to each of the eight worlds, conquering all and increasing his army. That means we will have to split our forces, and that will severely weaken us. Another danger exists. Those of us who became deities to lesser races sometimes taught those races conjuration rites, so that they could summon us to their world when help was needed. We can ignore the spells if we need to when they are cast by mortals, but if Drakkan manages to get his own powerful mages into these planes they could start summoning us and we would be unable to resist the spell - he could pick us off one by one, by conjuring us into the middle of his army."
        "Remove your spells."
        "We cannot. They were cast by a coven of our most powerful members. We agreed that such spells should exist to aid those we had determined to look after. We would need to reassemble that coven to recast the spells, and some of the members are dead now. You killed one yourself."
        Purgatori started. "What? Wh - Odin?"
        "Yes."
        "…oh…"
        "Don’t fret child. You are not our undoing. Others were dead before him, so his death at that time made no difference to that course of action. You do have most of his power though, and therefore could take his palce in the coven, however we would still need others to complete the circle."
        "So what is it you want from me? To fight him? Kill him? As I said, I would do that anyway."
       "Yes, I know you would. But Drakkan is only the most visible, most immediate of dangers. There are others on his side that may be of at least equal danger. If you defeat Drakkan your work will not be complete…but yes, you must fight him here, and prevent his work completing. He has built a Gate to bring his army through, and has already begun his conquest. One world has fallen to him already and another is heavily at war as we speak. Incursion into this world is imminent, his troops are already mustering and scouting parties have been prepared. The more he conquers, the faster the balance of power will shift away from us. You must destroy the Gate on your world to prevent him bringing more troops through. Time is running out Sakkara, and time runs faster in your world."
        "Then we will hurry. What is it you needed to ask me?"

        Purgatori stood at the cave entrance, looking out at the pitch black pre-dawn sky. A light hand touched her shoulder and she felt that sweet soothing aura envelope her. How many times in her long long life had she felt so content, so at peace? She let her fists unclench slowly. "I’m sorry, my Goddess."
        "For storming off?" Isis said kindly. "I at least expected you to strike me!" Purgatori glanced at her, not sure if Isis was joking or not. "I understand your feelings my child. I knew it would be a difficult thing to ask of you, but you must believe me when I tell you it is necessary. You cannot do this alone."
        "Why not?" Purgatori asked bluntly. "You think I am not strong enough?"
        "You are strong enough, and deadly enough. But odds are stacked against you. I have studied the future, and the Prophecy dictates that we will need help. It is important that we recruit allies here, people who will fight our cause while you fight elsewhere : we cannot be in all places at all times…"
        Purgatori sighed deeply. "I understand, my Goddess. I hate it, but you ask it so I will do it."
        Isis stepped around in front of her and embraced her again. "My dear child. What better follower could a Goddess ask for? Truly we were right to select you as our champion."
        Purgatori held her, still scarcely able to believe who it was her that had come to visit her. And still that resentment bubbled in her, wanting to make her rage at the way she had been played like a puppet, at the pain and unhappiness of the life Isis had steered her into. Again she pushed it away w/ difficulty. There was a time, she reflected, that she wouldn’t have bothered trying to subdue it. Maybe I am mellowing w/ age, she thought w/ a wry smile.
        "I must go now. Time passes in my own realm, and I have been gone too long as it is."
        Purgatori felt a sudden jolt of panic, sadness and resentment all at once. That’s right. Wander into my life after four thousand years, tell me you’ve been messing w/ me all my life and still ask me to do more to help you out then just breeze out of my life w/out a care.
        - Shut up!
        Isis was looking at her and Purgatori was certain that she had caught those thoughts. She looked at her feet in embarrassment but Isis said nothing. "Will…will you…will I see you again?"
        Isis smiled. "Yes, Sakkara. Please don’t hate me too much."
        "I don’t!"
        "You do. Or part of you does. But that’s alright - maybe I deserve it."
        "…my Goddess…"
        Isis cupped Purgatori’s face in her hands and looked at her intensely, a gaze Purgatori couldn’t look away from. "Whatever we needed to put you through Sakkara, it broke my heart to do that to you. If you believe nothing else this evening, believe that."
        Lying bitch.
        - Shut up! Purgatori took one of Isis’ hands and kissed it. "I do, my Goddess."
        Isis’ face softened. "I love you Sakkara. I have always loved you best of all my children."
        Purgatori felt the tears welling up again and hugged Isis tightly. "My Goddess," she said hoarsely. "I would die for you."
        "We must hope it doesn’t come to that," Isis replied. "I must leave now. I will return soon, I promise."
        "But…"
        "What, child?"
        "My parents…"
        Isis’ expression flickered momentarily. "I will tell you about them when next I see you."
        "Yes my Goddess," Purgatori said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
        "Please, Sakkara, be patient and trust me."
        "I do, I just…"
        "I know, Sakkara. We will talk later, I promise."
        Purgatori looked into her sapphire eyes and found herself deeply in love - not a sexual lust, the love she felt was the emotion she would have felt for a treasured mother or sister. It was a totally alien emotion to her. "Goodbye my Goddess."
        Isis kissed her cheek. "Goodbye my child. Keep safe."
        A glowing white portal opened behind her, stark bright white against the dead black night. Isis walked elegantly into it and it vanished, leaving a faint after-image hanging in the air. Purgatori walked back into the cave and sat by the fire, a feeling of low-grade euphoria warming her body, the tension and stress and hate of having been tortured finally beginning to seep away.
        Isis. After all this time, Isis herself had actually come and visited her, responding to Purgatori’s pleas.
        I have always loved you best of all my children.
        Everytime Purgatori ran that sentence through her mind she felt a little warmer, a little bit stronger and a little bit more at peace.
        She sat looking into the flames and running the whole meeting over and over in her mind as daylight came to the world.

       The storm was building in strength. Lightning slashed across the heavens and a moment later a colossal clap of thunder rattled the leaded glass in the windows. It was raw, lethal power, random and untameable, capable of destroying w/ ease and w/out conscience. Lady Death found it soothing. Apart from the storm, there was silence in the castle. Cremator was out hunting, Grimmir was trading in the nearest village, and Brock and Vandala were under strict instructions not to cause any disturbance whatsoever.
        It was the anniversary of Evil Ernie’s death.
        Or, rather, it was the date she had picked as the anniversary : having no idea what period of time had elapsed from the time she had been swallowed by Armageddon’s death wave to the time she had woken in this castle, she had picked the date before she woke as the day to remember him each year. Formally remember him, that is, because hardly a day went by when she didn’t think about him.
        She lay now on her huge bed, hands folded on her stomach, eyes closed and breathing slowly, letting the sounds of the storm sooth her as she concentrated on Ernie, trying to fill her mind w/ him image. She didn’t even have a picture of him that she could look at. How much he had done for her. How much they had achieved together. He had still loved her, had tried his damndest to achieve the obliteration of the human race just for her, so that she could join him on Earth. All for her. All for love.
        Love.
        She twitched slightly, for the same reason she always did : Grimm. While Ernest had been fighting on Earth w/ single-minded determination to carry out her wishes, she had made love to Grimmir during the victory celebrations in Asgard. She wished she had an excuse to justify it - that she had been in love w/ Grimm, or something - but she didn’t. It would have broken Ernie’s heart if he had found out.
        Thunder slammed overhead, perfectly mirroring her turmoil. How she wished she could take that night back. She tried to push the thoughts away and concentrate on the times she had spent w/ Ernie, precious few though they were. She loved him deeply. She had chosen him to be her emmisary for no other reason than his abilities and potential, but over a very short period of time she had fallen in love w/ him. If only he had survived. What a pairing they could have made, she thought. There should have been so much to celebrate, but all had efforts had been squandered. All that work, and then Lucifer had erased the curse anyway. Still Ernie had continued, but again they had been thwarted. Armageddon’s death had engulfed the world before the full results of Ernest’s work could be appreciated.
        She shifted on the bed, seeing a lightning flash as a momentary orange pulse of light through her eyelids. She was tensing up again. Relax. Every time, I do this. Remember his life and love. Celebrate his life, do not mourn his passing. He died for me, doing my work. He would have known no happier way to die.
        She took a few deep breaths and smiled a little wistfully as she relaxed herself again, remembering Evil. He had been so endearingly annoying, w/ his cryptic little ways of doing things, his dogged determination to get revenge on Mary Young and Leonard Price. He drove her to distraction sometimes. The storm reminded her of the time they were trapped inside Stone’s mind, the way Ernie had come up w/ a plan to drive Stone mad. Lady Death smiled thinly in the dark, recalling his assault on the White House, how it had been all she could do to keep his attention away from going after the doctors. Watching him tear that building apart, then tear the President apart, then tear the city apart. How he -
        bang bang bang!
        Lady Death’s eyes flew open in surprise and disbelieving rage as she was jarred rudely out of her reminiscences. At the foot of her bed, her Nameless Wolf raised his head and growled deeply at the door. Could it possibly be true? That someone would have been stupid enough to disobey her direct orders not to disturb her? She had almost convinced herself that she had imagined it, that it had been a noise caused by the vibrations of the storm, when the knock came again. She leapt off the bed and stormed over to the door, her eyes blazing w/ indignant fury in the candlelit darkness.
        "Who dares!?" she snarled as she wrenched the heavy oak door open. "Brock! Either you’re drunk again or you have a greater stupidity than anyone I have ever met! I warned you what would happen if you disturbed me - and I always keep my promises!"
        Brock scuttled away rapidly. "Whoah! Wait a minute! This is important!"
        "Important enough for you to suffer for?" Lady Death leapt after him, grabbed him by an ear and slammed him against a wall.
        "There’s a visitor!"
        Lady Death paused. "A visitor?" she considered this for a moment then lifted Brock w/ one hand, her other crackling w/ blue Arcane Energy. "I care not for visitors, Brock. I hope you considered them worthy of the pain their visit is about to cause you."
        "Milady, it’s Purgatori!" Brock choked.
        Lady Death blinked. "What did you say?" she gasped. She dropped Brock and he landed on his feet and scampered prudently out of range.
        "Purgatori! I swear! She turned up at the front door!"
        Lady Death stood stock still in front of him, wearing only a very skimpy bra and panties made of very revealing delicate black lace. Her long silver hair shimmered in the torch light. Purgatori. Here. At her castle. Arriving at the front door instead of swooping down in an assault from the sky. At first the concept was so absurd that the words just wouldn’t fit together into a coherent sentence, then suddenly a wave of hate and fury swept over her. She stamped back into the bedroom as blue power crackled over her, clothing her in her battle costume. She snatched up Apocalypse and motioned her wolf to stay where he was then strode down to the main hall w/ Brock hurrying after her, her boots clacking loudly on the stonework.
       She wouldn’t DARE! Brock must have been mistaken! He BETTER have been mistaken, for if this is his idea of a joke…!
        And then she reached the ground floor and stormed into the hall and saw to her utter disbelief that it wasn’t a mistake or a joke at all. A huge fire raged in the hearth but the fluttering orange light didn’t reach the outer limits of the spacious chamber, and in the gloom of the thick pillars that supported the arched ceiling she saw her, a dim winged shape w/ eyes that glowed like the full moon.
        Lady Death slowed up, measuring up the vampiress. Despite the outcomes of their previous encounters she was not about to make the mistake of underestimating the bitch. Apocalypse thrummed w/ power in her grip.
        "Well," she hissed as she neared. Purgatori just stood there, one hand clasping her other forearm, and Lady Death considered fleetingly if this wasn’t just some dumb phantasm that had been conjured up by someone to torment her. No, she amended as she neared, she could feel her. That ominous aura was too distinctive to mistake. "You have many failings, slut, but I didn’t think stupid was one of them. You must be, though, to turn up at my home - and unarmed too!" She heard an almost inaudible muffled noise but paid it no mind as she raised Apocalypse. "Never mind, I will  relieve you of all your shortcomings!"
        "I am not here to fight w/ you."
        "Really?" Lady Death snarled. "That’s unfortunate, bitch, because that’s what you’re going to do. Right before you die." That muffled noise again. She turned impatiently - and her jaw dropped. Vandala was suspended in mid-air by one of the pillars, trussed up tightly and gagged w/ dark scarlet cord. "You WHORE! Let her go now!"
        "She tried to attack me," Purgatori said reasonably. "I was merely defending myself."
        "You ignorant slut! Set her free now! Before I - "
        "Before you what, White Whore?" Purgatori snapped. "Before you do something you were going to do anyway? That’s her own blood binding her : if you want it back inside her instead of over the walls and floor I suggest you choose your next words w/ care."
        Lady Death ground her teeth helplessly. "Let her go! Now! If even one drop of her blood falls I promise you will suffer beyond your imagining!"
        "After the past three years," Purgatori said icily, "you have no idea how little that threat means to me. However, as a gesture of…goodwill, I will release her. But if she tries to strike me again, I WILL kill her." She gestured, and the thin coils of blood unwrapped themselves and slithered back inside Vandala’s body. She fell to the ground coughing.
        "You…bitch! I’ll k-kill you for th-that!"
        "No you won’t," Lady Death hissed. "I will!" She swung Apocalypse at the unarmed vampiress.
        Purgatori stepped inside the arc of the cut. Her right hand slapped Lady Death across the cheek and carried on to grab her right forearm as her left hand absorbed and stopped the movement of Lady Death’s cut. As soon as her fingers gripped flesh she reversed the path of the arc, twisting Lady Death’s arm up and over, turning the wrist over painfully. It was an aikido move called ude-osae. One of Glenn Wolf’s favourites. Lady Death was driven to her knees and Apocalypse fell to the floor as her wrist flared w/ pain. Purgatori kicked her away and stepped on the sword. Lady Death banged up against the pillar and scrambled to her feet, surprised and embarrassed at having underestimated her enemy despite her own warnings. Violet fire jetted out of Purgatori’s right fist and when it cleared she was holding a curved sword.
        "I told you," Purgatori said, her voice wavering w/ barely contained fury, "that I’m not here to fight w/ you - "
        "You come into my house and attack my sister then dare to stand there and tell me you don’t want to fight?" Lady Death spat. "How stupid do you think I am?"
        "Why are we wasting time talking to this whore?" Vandala cried, snatching up her sword. "You obliterated my homeworld bitch," she spat at Purgatori. "I will see you take full measure of pain for each and every life you took!"
        "Stay where you are, Valkyrie," Purgatori said coldly. "If I have to take your blood out again I will drink it." She turned to Lady Death. "Do you think I would have come knocking at your door if I wanted to kill you? Do you think I would be here at all if it was up to me?"
        Lady Death glared at her, spidery blue lightning crackling around her fingertips as she eyed up Apocalypse under Purgatori’s boot. "Tell me why I should trust you of all people, harlot."
        Purgatori gazed at her for a moment, weighing up strategies, and then kicked Apocalypse over to her. "There. Now - we can either continue this childishness and fight again, or you can listen to me."
        For a moment Lady Death was so surprised that she just blinked at the sword, then she recovered herself and snatched it up, never taking her eyes off the vampiress.
        "Enough of this!" Vandala cried. "Take her head - "
        "Be quiet Vandala," Lady Death said flatly.
        " - off her miserable shoul - what?!"
        "All right parasite," Lady Death said icily. "Say what you will. But don’t expect it to make any difference to your fate."