The Vampire's Prophecy

        "I do like an open mind," Purgatori murmured.
        "What!?" Vandala cried in disbelief again. "You cannot be serious! This disgusting red whore destroyed our -"
        "I do not need her resume Vandala!" Lady Death snapped. "Now be quiet!" She glared at Vandala until the Valkyrie dropped her eyes w/ a dark mutter. Lady Death turned back to Purgatori and bristled as she saw a smirk of amused contempt on her lips. "Speak, bitch. Why are you fouling up my house w/ your stench?"
        Purgatori’s eyes pulsed brighter momentarily, the only outward reaction to the insult. "I am here because my Goddess asked me to come here. She told me to warn you of an impending danger, to tell you that we need to work together to defeat it."
        Lady Death barked laughter. "Oh really? I work by myself. I have no need of help and I certainly wouldn’t dream of teaming up w/ a fetid vulture like you! Go back and tell whatever naïve slut you pray to th-uughh!" Lady Death choked to a stop, the tip of Purgatori’s katana jammed between her teeth. Tangy saliva squirted into her mouth at the taste of the steel.
        By the Abyss! Her speed! She CANNOT be that fast! I didn’t even see her move!
        She tried to back up and found her back up against the pillar, trapping her. The blade moved minutely and a trickle of blood seeped from the roof of her mouth. Her eyes met Purgatori’s and she froze, struck by the frightening psychotic blankness of those glowing white eyes. There was no anger there, no fury - no emotion of any sort. She knew Purgatori to be a fiercely emotional creature, and this complete lack of reaction was far more unnerving than any violent rage would have been.
        "You can call me anything - don’t move another inch, troll!!"
        Brock, who had been edging closer from one side w/ his axe in his hand, froze in the shadows of another pillar, wondering how the Hell she had seen him.
        "As I was saying," Purgatori said w/ that same eerie calm. "You can call me anything you like. Your petty insults mean less than nothing to me. But if you ever - if you ever - so much as think something like that about my Goddess again, I will take your head and present it to her as a gift." She cocked her head slightly on one side, as if examining a particularly interesting museum exhibit. "Do you believe me?" she almost sighed.
        Lady Death moved her head to the left and the sword never wavered, as if Purgatori had read her mind and compensated at the moment she moved. Saliva ran over her lips and down her chin as she glared silently at Purgatori. Small violet flames sprouted near the sword’s handle and crept along the blade towards her mouth. She tried to move her head back and found she was completely blocked by the pillar. The flames stopped three inches from her nose. Their heat made her skin prickle.
        "Do you believe me?" Purgatori asked patiently.
        " - e-hh - "
        The blade was gone from her mouth. Lady Death spat blood and saliva onto Purgatori and raised Apocalypse, every muscle quivering w/ rage. "You…you…" She was so enraged she couldn’t even come up w/ an adequate insult.
        "I am not here to fight, but don’t you ever say - "
        "Get out!"
        " - anything…You don’t understand. We need - " A blast of Arcane Energy hit Purgatori squarely in the chest, knocking her off her feet. She sprawled backwards w/ a howl, twisted around and brought her sword up fast in a reverse grip, the blade laid back along her forearm. Apocalypse crashed against the katana and skated off. Lady Death stabbed down again and huge sparks flew from the flagstone Purgatori had been kneeling on microseconds before.
        "You stupid brat!" Purgatori screeched. She spasmed in pain, her blackened skin smoking under the melted leather of her bra. "Your infantile arrogance will be your downfall and all other worlds will suffer for your idiocy!" Another ball of energy speared towards her but this time she cleaved it out of the air easily. "Stop! We need to -"
        "We need nothing bitch!" Lady Death cut in, stunned that Purgatori was still standing. That blast should have punched a hole through her. "Get out of my sight or I’ll cut your rancid heart out and feed it to my wolf!"
        Purgatori moved forward fast, then stopped, struggling to control herself. "Listen girl," she said between clenched teeth. "Try and be sensible for once in your life. I am here for your benefit as much as mine."
        "Still you prattle on," Lady Death sneered. "I’ll make sure I tear your flapping tongue out before I kill you, to prevent you boring me to death."
        "You arrogant insect! You would threaten your own world and all others for a petty grudge that you yourself instigated! How pathetic!"
        Lady Death snarled and lunged again. Purgatori simply wasn’t there anymore : Apocalypse sliced through nothing but air. Purgatori drove her boot into Lady Death’s midriff and fell back a few paces, trying to give herself time to think. Hot pain lanced through her as Vandala’s sword cut through her left wing, almost severing it at its elbow. She spat a curse at the Valkyrie and a burst of power hammered Vandala into the ground. The wing membrane melted together slowly. Purgatori reached out, her talons flexing in a grasping gesture that would make Vandala’s heart burst.
        If you cannot convince her, Sakkara, it is essential that you don’t kill her, no matter how she behaves towards you. Lady Death would be a formidable ally, and others might succeed in recruiting her if you fail. If she killed Vandala, she would ensure that no one would EVER be able to recruit Lady Death to their side.
        Purgatori swatted away another blow from Lady Death and backed up rapidly. She gestured at the huge front door and it swung open, letting in an icy gale.
        "Yes, run you cowardly bitch!" Lady Death cried. "Run back to your precious Goddess and tell her you’re a miserable failure!"
        Purgatori snarled and cast a violet fireball at her. Lady Death flung herself flat and it seared overhead, hitting one of the columns and blowing a massive chunk of the stonework into gravel. Thick cracks shot up the column, threatening the entire structure.
        Lady Death rolled to her feet and leapt after Purgatori. The door was half open, swaying in the strong wind. She grabbed the large iron handle and wrenched the door open, her hair streaming out almost horizontally behind her. There was no sign of the vampiress outside, not even footprints in the deep snow. --- o O o ---         Purgatori crouched in the blackness by Sebek’s pool, as still as a statue despite the pain in her chest and arm. The blast of Arcane Energy had damaged her more than she had realised. She crouched, listening for sounds, searching w/ her senses. She was furious, furious at herself and at Lady Death. What was the matter w/ that stupid white cow? Couldn’t she just listen to reason? Her arrogance and stubbornness could ruin everything. All it would take now, would be for Drakkan to turn up at her castle and say, "hey, I’m fighting some red-skinned bitch called Purgatori. Will you help me?" and her problems would multiply massively.
        Run back to your precious Goddess and tell her you’re a miserable failure!
        That stung. Failed again. Everything she had ever done seemed to have failed at some point. Her love affairs. The creation of her empire. All right, so some of them had been orchestrated by Isis in order to carry out her plans, but that still didn’t alter the fact that there was a pitifully small figure in the credit column of her account. And now she had failed her Goddess, and that failure might just have doomed her.
        Purgatori could feel the fury rising again, wanting to make her crash through her palace like a tornado until she found Drakkan and tore him apart.
        No. She would have to fight him sometime, but her priority was to find his Gate and destroy it. She had to do something to correct her failure. She couldn’t stand the thought of Isis being captured and killed - or, worse, captured and kept alive for torture - because of her actions.
        When she had left Lady Death’s castle she had returned to the Gate, frantically trying to come up w/ a plan of action. There was none. The bottom line was, she had to get back to New Necropolis and destroy the Gate that Drakkan was using to bring his army into this plane, then disable the others he was using to move to the other worlds and strand his troops. She had to do it alone. As usual. All alone, as usual. She stepped through the Gate then transvected up here. Scan, sense; nothing around. Out to her veranda, crouch, scan for the Gate, slowly and methodically working her way from the tip of pyramid downwards - then work her way out across the city if it wasn’t in the pyramid itself. She had no idea how big it was, but she felt sure it had to be fairly large, for speedy transit of troops.
       The water rippled beside her, heaving gently upwards and spreading out across the pool in fat peaks and troughs. Purgatori’s concentration wavered and broke. She moved into a defensive pose and suddenly her snarl turned into a smile.
        "Sebek!" she whispered happily. "My pretty! I feared you dead!" Sebek drifted over silently and Purgatori kissed his nose. "Did you sense my magic again, my pretty? You sweet little baby, have you been waiting by your Gate for me all this time?" she asked fondly, touched by his loyalty. If only the denizens of her city had been as faithful as this reptile. "It does my heart good to see you my beauty, but you should return to the river. It’s not safe here - Drakkan would kill you on general principles." Sebek rumbled at her. "Go on." He gazed at her and opened his massive jaws. "You naughty boy," Purgatori whispered, scratching his tongue. "Don’t you ever do what you’re told?" He purred at her again and refused to move. Purgatori stood up and pointed to his Gate. "Go on. Go. Be safe. Dammit Sebek, do as I tell - " She froze : the elevator was running. She reached out w/ her senses and felt two soldiers. Vampires. Little magic to them. Easy kill. She slipped across the balcony and into her main room, Kintaro held in a reverse grip behind her body, out of sight. Ooh, those little treacherous bastards were in for a surprise. She would put their heads in the elevator and send it back down. Let their friends work that one out.
        The elevator stopped and the doors hissed open. The blood warriors stepped out and looked around the room. She let the doors close before she stepped into sight, her fangs bared in a welcoming grin. They stopped and raised their guns, showing no surprise at all.
        "You will come w/ us," one intoned.
        "Make me," Purgatori spat, and was smashed backwards by a crackling ball of yellow electricity that coiled around her like a hungry anaconda. She hit the floor hard. The katana flew out of her grip and skittered across the floor into her bedroom. The vampires advanced cautiously, watching her twist and contort expressionlessly.
        "It will hurt less if you do not resist," one said flatly. "Let it take your power."
        Purgatori howled and bucked, fighting to break free of the agonising energy. It was a far more potent version of the spell that had got her last time : it bit at her voraciously. If she hadn’t experienced it before it would have finished her, but her body remembered it and her mind and will acted on their own, powering her sorcery through her to shatter the spell. It blew up and she flopped, gasping. Footsteps running at her - she rolled over and ripped the blood out of both soldiers at once. It swirled into her and she took it gratefully, horrified at how bad she felt. That damned spell had hit her like a wrecking ball. She was dizzy : she got to her feet, fell over, got to her knees and then managed to stand upright, swaying drunkenly. How had they done that? Why hadn’t she seen that they had that power?
       Bastards. He wants my power. He’s learnt his lesson. He wants to capture me again, but he’s not going to let me keep my power again, no matter how badly he wants to torture me. Get out…get away…
        She staggered out onto the balcony, trying to repair herself. She was frighteningly exhausted - that blast from Lady Death might well have killed her after all. Where to go? Demonica, she thought fuzzily. See if she found Snake Eyes. She reached the low railings that edged the balcony and wondered if she was too weak or dizzy to fly. She looked down and blinked in shock. There were swarms of Doom Magistrates coming up the angled side of the pyramid, their powerful clawed hands gripping the polished limestone and strange metal plates easily. Trapped. She was trapped. She had been trapped. He must have sensed her and set a trap. She backed up and only then realised that she didn’t have her sword.
        No no! Dungeons. Torture. Pain. No! Failure. Isis dead. NO!
        Yes, she realised dismally. They would capture her and take her power. This was all a dismal repeat of what had happened before, but this time there was no Demonica to aid her.
        No! My power - all I’ve been through to acquire this power! I will NOT let him have it!
        She had to get rid of it, or hide it somehow. That would leave her virtually defenceless, but what difference would that make now? None whatsoever. In fact, it might actually be better - if she wasn’t being empowered by her magickal energies he wouldn’t be able to torture her as badly, not if he wanted to keep her alive.
        Purgatori backed up, thinking desperately. Yes, get rid of the power. It ended here, one way or another. She could be captured and let him take it, or she could get rid of it just to spite him. Yes. She would get rid of her power, all that precious power she had fought so hard for, so long for, simply because Drakkan wanted it. That old stubborn pig-headedness was coming to the forefront again. Get rid of her power somehow, wait for capture. Wait for torture.
        It was over.
        She had failed. --- o O o ---         Cremator hammered the last nail in place and inspected his work. He had been replacing the metal bracing and hinges on the front door, which had been severely damaged when Lady Death had flown into a rage at the disappearance of Purgatori. That had been a week ago, and she had been in a foul temper ever since - the rest of them had just kept quiet and kept out of her way, terrified of doing anything that would inadvertently turn that wrath upon them, wrath she was just itchiing to vent.
        He had returned the day after the event and couldn’t get his head around what had happened. Purgatori, here. And asking for help, if you can believe that. Cremator shook his head. Purgatori asking for help from Lady Death? He tried to imagine what sort of threat would prompt Purgatori to try and forge an alliance w/ Lady Death and found he couldn’t. Or didn’t want to. If there was something out there that made Purgatori consider going to Lady Death for help, then Cremator decided he didn’t particularly want to find out what it was.
        The bracing looked fine. He checked the hinge and opened the door, watching its movement for signs of sagging or misalignment. There was none - a good job, considering the sub-zero weather. There was no wind or snowstorm today, but the watery sun was hidden behind scummy stratocumulus clouds and the temperature was way South of zero. He shut the door and stood outside, looking over the bleak and yet somehow strangely beautiful landscape, glad to be out of that foreboding atmosphere for a while. He didn’t like his beloved Lady Death being threatened, and was angry at having been absent when she was attacked. She could take care of herself, true, but from what Vandala had told him late one night when they were alone in the kitchen it seemed that Purgatori had been far more lethal than she had ever been. And that was another concept Cremator didn’t like to dwell on - he knew Purgatori was a bad bitch at the best of times, but from what Vandala had said she had disarmed Lady Death in a casual, off-hand way and the only reason that Lady Death was still alive was due to Purgatori’s own mysterious agenda. He knew that that had worried his mistress too. He could tell there was more than just rage bubbling away in her, and she had been practising her sword fighting for many hours each day. She was vicious and capable, Cremator thought, but she seemed to have discovered another trait that he himself had been aware of but hadn’t dared comment on - she was cocky and arrogant, over-confident to a dangerous - almost suicidal - extreme. He hoped she would learn from this lesson.
        He turned from the view into the deep jagged crevasse that stretched from the West side of the castle and stopped in surprise. There was a figure on the steep winding path that led up the mountain to the castle. He tensed momentarily, but then saw that the figure obviously didn’t have big wings under its cloak. Another unexpected visitor? This was indeed a week for surprises. He was deciding whether or not to treat the figure as hostile when it stumbled and fell in the knee-deep snow. His charitable instincts took over and he went over, though cautiously in case this was some kind of trap.
        The figure was wrapped up in a thick fur pelt. Cremator reached down and moved a fold of fur and looked into the face of a beautiful young woman. She was thin and weather-beaten, her face raw from the icy wind.
        "Can you understand me?" Cremator asked. "Who are you?"
        Lexus blinked at him owlishly. She was partially snow-blind, and all she could see was a huge blur. She tried to speak but her mouth was dry and her lips were frozen and numb, cracked deeply from the extreme cold.
        This was obviously no trap. Cremator picked her up in his huge arms and carried her into the castle, wondering if he was going to get a tongue-lashing - or worse - from Lady Death for bringing another visitor into her home. He laid her on the tiger skin in front of the fire and went to the kitchen to fetch her a hot drink. There was still some of the tea that Vandala had brewed for lunch so he poured her a cupful, added some brandy and returned to find her unconscious. He helped her into a sitting position and patted her cheek softly. Lexus moaned and stirred, then opened her eyes when he held the mug under her nose.
        "Here, drink this. Be careful - it’s hot."
        Lexus took a sip, then a bigger mouthful and swallowed painfully. "Thank you," she croaked. She closed her eyes in bliss, feeling the liquid warm her.
        "Who are - "
        "And just who the Hell is this?"
        Cremator stood up quickly to face Lady Death. "She was outside Milady, near death."
        "So? How dare you bring wandering vagrants into my castle w/out my permission!"
        Cremator paused. "Milady. There was no need to let her die," he said carefully.
        "Humph!" Lady Death stalked past him, her cloak billowing out behind her. "Who are you girl?" she snapped, looking Lexus up and down. "What brings you to WinterHaven?"
        "My name is Lexus, Milady," Lexus replied. She didn’t like this white-skinned woman’s attitude, but she felt a tone of humble subservience would calm her down a bit - even if it was completely insincere. "I got separated from my mistress. I’ve been trying to track her but I lost - "
        "I’m not interested. She’s not here…" Lady Death’s eyes narrowed. She reached forward and snatched the loosely draped bearskin off Lexus. She took one look at the skull-shaped shoulderpads and kicked Lexus over. The mug shattered on the ground, enveloping them in fragrant steam. Lady Death stood on Lexus’s chest, her sword pressing into her neck. "So, what are you to that red slut? A slave? No…pretty as you are, you’re probably one of her whores, yes?"
        Lexus bristled. "I’m her lover, maggot."
        Lady Death grinned. "Good. Then it will upset her all the more when I send you back to her in pieces." She kicked Lexus’s jaw, stunning her, and stood back. "Lock this whore in the dungeon," she snapped at Cremator.
        Cremator picked Lexus up reluctantly and departed. Lady Death looked up to see Vandala on the stairs, watching her w/ a worried expression.
        "Do you think that was wise?"
        "Yes," Lady Death snapped. "What’s wrong? Are you afraid she’ll come back to get her lover?"
        "Yes," Vandala snapped back. "Do you know how it feels to have your blood pulled out of your body and be tied up w/ it?"
        "Pah," Lady Death snorted, turning on her heel and striding off.
        "Now where are you going?"
        "Vandala, if you keep bothering me and questioning everything I do - "
        "What in Odin’s name is wrong w/ you!?" Vandala shrieked, running down the stairs in fury. "I am your ally! Your sister! How dare you treat me like some petty underling! Who do you think you are?! We fought by your side and helped you conquer Lucifer and do you even bother to thank us? You think that we should consider fighting for you an honour? Well, we don’t!"
        "Listen girl - "
        "We don’t! We fight for you because we love you!"
        Lady Death had to look away. "Something is wrong, Vandala. I can feel it gnawing away at my subconscious. Something…familiar…?"
        Vandala took a deep breath and subsided, realising that that was the closest she would get to an apology from Lady Death. "Familiar?"
        "Yes. Can’t you feel it?" Lady Death said distantly. "It feels like…like Genocide felt. Could there be another Chaos Lord out there?"
        "There are others."
        "This one has the stench of evil about him. Genocide was just crazed, but this feels…" Lady Death trailed off.
        "Feels what?" Vandala prompted gently.
        Lady Death shook her head slightly. "I feel there is something nearby. I am taking Vassago to the South-West to check it out."
        "What! You can’t go alone!"
        "I’m not a child, girl."
        "You’ve just said it is something evil that scares you. Where is the sense in facing it alone? Especially if you don’t know anything about it?"
        "It is because I know nothing about it that I go! Vandala, I am not some naive newcomer to war strategy. I am merely going to check it out and put my mind at rest."
        "Well…" Vandala stopped. She saw the look on Lady Death’s face and knew any further debate was pointless. "…be careful."
        "As always," Lady Death said over her shoulder. --- o O o ---         Lady Death opened her eyes. She was upside down, swaying and bouncing. Blood seeped into her eyes and she tried to wipe them. She couldn’t seem to co-ordinate her limbs. She could see large armoured legs, and after a moment her brain deduced that she was slung over the shoulder of a large Blood Warrior. Her ribs jounced painfully as he made his way down a flight of steps.
        Blood Warrior. Captured. Humiliatingly slung over some man’s shoulder like a roll of carpet.
        She tried to move, to get off this brute’s shoulder, but she was weak, dizzy. She managed to raise her head a fraction and saw another pair of armoured boots, and the furry legs of one of the Akerians that had caught her by surprise : escorts, guarding her.
        They levelled out, turned into a corridor. It was dark here, cold - nowhere near as cold as WinterHaven, but the chill made her apprehensive. Funny, that : w/ her powers, she normally didn't notice coldness unless it was very severe. Bars. She could see bars at the very corner of her vision. She was going to be locked up. In a dungeon. She struggled harder this time, but got nothing for her efforts but a stinging smack on her rump.
        "Stop squirming."
        "Bastard," she croaked, and got another, harder, slap.
        They stopped by one of the cells, but another voice behind her spoke up. "No. Put her in the Pit. Let her play w/ her friend till Drakkan’s ready."
        They went down to the very end of the corridor, descending all the time, then stopped again and she heard a door opening, heavy metal being unlocked.
        "Get…your…filthy h-hands -"
        "Quiet witch, unless you want a whipping."
        Lady Death was yanked off the Warrior’s shoulder and flung unceremoniously on the ground. Her head thumped and spun queasily w/ the sudden rush of blood. The door clanged shut and locked. She lay for a while, until the cold rough stones beneath her back stopped undulating. Her arms seemed to be working better now - she wiped the crust of blood from her eyes and wondered why she still couldn’t see. There was a momentary surge of panic as she thought that maybe her injuries had damaged her eyes, or finally blinded her after so much abuse, and then she saw a faint glimmer of yellow. Just dimly lit, that’s all. She sat up, making her head reel again, and after a while she could see clearly enough to take stock of her surroundings. She was in a cave - or at least it looked like a cave. This was a place that Purgatori kept people whom she needed to punish for minor offences, such as non-payment of taxes or public drunkenness. It was hacked directly out of the rock; cold, rough, hard, and foreboding, all jagged edges and intimidating blackness. Two or three nights in here listening to what was happening to the other people in the cells and torture chambers, and most of the minor criminals never reoffended. It was an extremely uncomfortable place compared to the cells : there wasn’t a square foot of floor that didn’t have some rough edge or spiky protrusion, making a decent resting position impossible. The cells themselves were reasonably comfortable - Purgatori liked to keep the people she had to torture in decent surroundings so that any discomfort or pain they experienced was caused purely by what she had administered.
       Let her play w/ her friend.
        Friend? What friend? Lady Death stood up cautiously and looked around. Friend? Have they caught Vandala too? Or Cremator? Has WinterHaven fallen in my absence?
        The murky light from the main chambers fell in an angled bar across one end of the cave. There was a figure there, hunched up and indistinct. Lady Death took a step closer and made out an arm. A red arm.
        "Bitch!" So this was her ‘friend’. She strode over angrily and kicked Purgatori hard. The pain in her foot went unregistered : she was too busy being satisfied at the crunching sound from Purgatori’s ribs. "Get up you…" Lady Death trailed off as the blow knocked Purgatori from her hunched up foetal position onto her back. Whatever had worked over the vampiress had done a good job. She was naked, her bare body covered in large purple whip welts and heavy dark bruises. Purgatori gurgled something at the pain of the kick but barely moved as Lady Death hunkered down beside her. Her fingers were bent and twisted, clutched into arthritic fists - they had been pulverised and had healed badly. Faint light fell on her face and Lady Death could see that one eye was barely visible, the skin around it puffed up and bloated horribly. The other eye was closed, and from the concave shape of the lid Lady Death knew that the eye had been removed. Purgatori’s lips were cut and bruised, and hung loosely like the mouth of some old crone. Lady Death reached out and pulled her top lip back. Purgatori flinched at the pain and moved her head weakly away, but not before Lady Death could see that most of her teeth were missing. She sat back on her heels, gazing at the vampiress w/ unease nibbling at her. Eyes, talons, teeth. Not just torture - they had disarmed Purgatori. Disarmed her then brutalised her. Who had brutalised her?
        "Purgatori." The vampiress gurgled. "Purgatori!" Again, she got nothing but an inarticulate sound. Something flashed in the shadow that Lady Death cast on Purgatori’s body. She stopped and watched, wondering if she had imagined it. Another spark came a few seconds later. Lady Death leaned closer. It happened again, on a deep tear on Purgatori’s hip where a whip had torn at her flesh. Another, and Lady Death saw what was happening. Healing magick. Whatever - whoever - had tortured Purgatori had bestowed healing magick on her. So that she would repair quickly. So that they could get to play w/ her sooner. They’ll do that to me! She felt like she had swallowed a cup of snow. Memories of what Lucifer had done to her swam in front of her, and that despicable feeling - fear - wafted over her again. "Purgatori!" she slapped Purgatori across the face and saw her eye glimmer dimly.
        "…s…lu…t…"
        "What’s happening bitch? Who did this?"
        "…what…do…you…care…"
        "I care because I’m here, idiot! Is this what you meant when you came to see me?"
        "…clever…girl…"
        Lady Death’s heart was beating a little too fast for her liking. Purgatori was, she had to admit grudgingly, a dangerous adversary. Anyone who could reduce the powerful sorceress to this state was an enemy to be respected.
        "Who did this Purgatori?"
        Bright light flooded the cell, burning her eyes. Purgatori moaned, and closed her eye w/ a wince.
        "I did."
        Lady Death squinted at the voice, shading her eyes. "And who might you be, you mangy cat?"
        Drakkan chuckled happily. "Ah, something tells me you might well be as entertaining as Purgatori."
        Lady Death stood up and strode over. "You have no idea who you’re messing w/," she snarled. "You won’t find me as easy to defeat as her. Let me go now, and I’ll consider killing you quickly."
        "How generous." Drakkan folded his arms and inspected her. He had swapped his dark green robe for a waistcoat of rusty burgundy, made of irregularly shaped leather patches stitched together w/ black cord. "Let me assure you, Purgatori was anything but easy to defeat. That is what makes her such a delight. Hours of fun. Disrobe."
        Lady Death was stunned for a moment, then her lip curled and she gathered her energy and cast it full force at Drakkan. A small blue spark burped from her fingertips.
        "Ooh," Drakkan purred. "Impressive."
        Lady Death gaped, looking at her fingers stupidly. Her power was still there, she could feel it, but it just wasn’t working. She had no power. She had no sword. She looked at Drakkan, suddenly on the defensive.
        "The problem w/ Purgatori," Drakkan informed her conversationally, "is that her skin colour takes some of the fun out of punishing her. It makes it hard to see good burns or bruises. I usually have to be far more severe w/ her to get any decent results." He looked Lady Death over again. "I feel I won’t have the same problem w/ you. Disrobe."
        Lady Death glared at him. "Make me, worm."
        All the good humour left Drakkan’s face. "Oh, I will, if that’s what you really want," he breathed. "Take a look at your friend behind you and decide whether or not you wish to make me angry. Three years, and that arrogant little cur still hasn’t learnt her lesson. Disrobe and prepare to be punished, or prepare to join Purgatori in her world of agony."
        "I have bested more impressive creatures than you, cat. Come and face me if you dare!"
        The cell door unlocked and opened at Drakkan’s gesture. Lady Death backed off as he walked in, his face dark w/ anger. "I like your spirit," he grated. "We’ll see how arrogant you are after I have finished w/ you and cast you to my minions for entertainment. You see, Purgatori is special to me, personal. She is for me alone to enjoy, but you - I have no problem w/ letting anyone and everyone in this world play w/ you. I suspect your attitude will have changed after a night of rape and sodomy."
        Lady Death circled away, keeping in a fighting stance. She darted forward and kicked Drakkan hard in the floating ribs. The only discernible result was pain as she jarred her ankle, and she retreated frantically - even her strength was reduced…or had she just been depending on her magic for too long? "You think I will allow that? You will have to break every bone in my body before you take me!"
        Drakkan roared w/ laughter. "Do you know, Purgatori said exactly the same thing, under different circumstances." His teeth gleamed nastily at Lady Death. "So I did, virtually. Of course, after that she was no fun at all so we never got around to playing further, but I learn fast - you will not escape the same way." He backfisted her across the face. She crashed into the wall and crumpled to the floor, her head spinning. Hot pain throbbed in her broken nose and split lips. Blood flowed freely over her chin and down her neck. She could feel slithery salty tears of pain in her eyes. Oh god, this was just like being a wretched human again. She shook her head and drove her boot into Drakkan’s kneecap. He growled at her and slapped her face. "Yes, fight! It makes it more exciting!" He wrenched off her armoured bra and slapped her across the face w/ it. The metallic plates tore open the skin over her jaw. Lady Death shrieked and sank her fingernails into his face, going for his eyes but missing by an inch. She had lost her supernatural speed too. Drakkan snarled and picked her up and threw her against the wall. Her head smashed into the sharp rock. The last thing she saw as blackness swooped over her were his eyes, bright baleful red. --- o O o ---         Cremator reigned in his mount behind Vandala and waited as she concentrated, scanning for Lady Death. He was frantic w/ worry. When he had returned from the dungeons Vandala had told him that Lady Death had left to scout for this unknown danger she felt, and right away Cremator had gotten a twinge of alarm, almost a premonition. Once again she had been headstrong and ridden off into danger by herself. No doubt fuelled by her confrontation w/ Purgatori, she had probably been in a rage, or felt that she had something to prove to herself, or both. It seemed to Cremator that it should have been a trip that should have only lasted a couple of hours - Vassago could travel at fantastic speeds and all she had to do was ride out, look around and then come back. The sun had begun to descend when Cremator had heard hooves. He had gone out into the courtyard and icy fright had grabbed him. Vassago had returned : alone. He was wounded : a deep slash was bleeding heavily on his left flank, and there was an arrow in the large muscle of his right leg. Cremator had pulled it out carefully. A metallic red arrow, enchanted metal. A Blood Warrior’s arrow. That red bitch and her army had captured - or killed - his lady.
        He was raging. Leaving Brock to tend to Vassago he left w/ Vandala to try and find Lady Death. Vandala was like a bloodhound - she could sense even the merest trace of Lady Death’s angelic energies - and she had led them steadily South-West, skirting the mountains and heading out into the icy plains.
        "Anything?" he asked impatiently.
        "Wait."
        Cremator glanced at the sky. The wind was getting up, the temperature was falling even further, and they had maybe three hours of sunlight left. At a hard gallop it would take nearly two hours to reach WinterHaven. They were cutting it fine.
        "Just ahead."
        Cremator squinted into the gloomy grey air, trying to see through the madly whirling snowflakes. "I see nothing."
        "I can sense a faint trail…and it goes no further."
        "How far?"
        "A mile, two at the most."
        Cremator took off at a gallop, unsheathing Demon Slayer and leaving Vandala to chase after him.
        "Cremator! Cremator! Be wary!"
        Common sense won out over anxiety and Cremator slowed to a trot after half a mile. Vandala fell in behind and to his right.
        "I see nothing."
        "No," Cremator agreed gruffly. The wind gusted around them, hard enough to briefly clear the heavy snowflakes. "Wait - what was that?"
        Vandala shook her head. "I know not. It looked like a hoop."
        They walked the horses forward, thankful for the snow that muffled the sound of their hooves. Vandala drifted away about twenty metres, opening them up so that one volley of shots would not get them both.
        Lady Death had certainly been here. They came across the first stark splashes of blood, and Cremator saw a decapitated body of a Blood Warrior nearby. Various weapons lay scattered in the snow. More bodies, and then something loomed out of the grey air as they neared cautiously. Made of black stone, it consisted of five smooth beams forming a free-standing pentagon. Cremator dismounted and looked at it closely, sensing its magickal properties.
        "What is that?" Vandala asked. She had circled back to him having checked the vicinity for danger.
        "A portal of some sort. Where to, I do not know. This magic - it seems reminiscent of Apocalypse’s powers."
        "Can you work it? Open the portal?"
        "No. It requires specific spells, and probably destination spells. Perhaps Brock could work it out, but I doubt it."
        "Hope’s trail ends here. Why would she have gone through there?"
        Cremator could only shrug. "Probably she had no choice. Or maybe she was chasing Purgatori."
        Another gust of wind. Cremator turned his head to shield his eyes and his stomach lurched as he saw something on the ground, almost invisible w/ a dusting of snow. He ran over and yanked it out, looking at it numbly.
        "Hope’s cape!" Vandala gasped. She jumped down from her horse and ran over, hoping a closer inspection would prove her wrong. It didn’t. She looked around at the glistening red bodies and found herself raging at Purgatori again. Not content w/ having destroyed her home and stolen Vulnavia, it now looked as though the red bitch had added Lady Death to her tally of atrocities. Helplessly, she kicked at the body closest to her. It groaned.
        "Cremator!"
        He dropped the cloak instantly and kicked away the double-headed axe that lay close to the Warrior. The figure moved weakly and stopped. Cremator pushed him onto his side and saw a deep wound in his shoulder, and another gash in his helmet. The cold had slowed the blood loss, but exposure had almost killed him instead.
        "Get rope from the horses Vandala. We might have found someone who can open that portal for us." --- o O o ---         Lady Death lay on her side in a dank corner of the cell, shaking w/ pain. She had been tortured before, but that was when she had still had her angelic and arcane powers working for her. This hurt bad. It was like being human again, like being Hope again, feeling pain she had felt when Matthias had beaten her. Drakkan had beaten her badly and then had let some of his Blood Warriors play w/ her. They had not attempted to rape her - she suspected he was playing mindgames w/ her, that that would come later when she perhaps thought it was not going to happen - but they had worked her over good. Lucifer had raped and violated her, but this was somehow worse, maybe because these soldiers had no higher purpose; no dreams of marrying her, no urge to break her spirit. She was just a casual night’s entertainment for them.
        Purgatori lay across the room from her, in much the same position as she had been when Lady Death had arrived. She looked much better now : the healing magick had done its work well. It had worked for Lady Death too. The fingers Drakkan had broken, punishment for her scratching his face, had healed. They were still a little sore when she flexed them, but that was all. Overall, she felt that she had gotten off lightly - Drakkan had not broken many of her bones, and the night’s session had seemed to be purely an exercise in humiliation and debasement rather than pain and damage. Which wasn’t to say that it hadn’t hurt, but at least she hadn’t lost teeth or eyes, as had Purgatori.
       So what now? she thought w/ uncharacteristic trepidation. She was all alone w/ no weapons and no power. If Vandala and Cremator discovered what had happened, would they be able to help? They didn’t even know where she had gone, did they? She racked her brains, trying to remember what she had told Vandala, whether she had mentioned where she intended to search for that unsettling alien presence. She couldn’t think - every few seconds her mind would wander back to her predicament, reminding her of where she was and how helpless she was, and what parts of her were hurting.
        Bright light flooded the chamber again and she jerked in fright. The door clanked open and she saw Drakkan standing at the doorway. That horrible feeling of fear again. There was another figure w/ him, a man of the same build as Cremator. He was carrying a leather satchel w/ him, and its contents chinked metallically as he moved. He looked over at Lady Death and she felt her bowels loosen, a horrible, hateful feeling. Dammit, I’m Lady Death! I have faced worse than this! I have been through worse! I have had worse injuries! I will NOT be afraid of some half-wit and his torture instruments! She was though, and it angered her. It made her feel weak.
        Drakkan barely glanced in her direction - his attention was solely on Purgatori. He crossed over to her and nudged her w/ his foot, and Lady Death felt a huge surge of relief as they walked past her. Good. She couldn’t help it. It seemed ignoble and childish, revelling in the fact that someone other than her was going to get hurt, even if that someone was Purgatori, but the bottom line was, she just couldn’t help it, the relief was too great.
        "Wake up Purgatori." There was a crackle of electricity, and Lady Death heard Purgatori yelp. "Ah. How well you look. It’s time to play again."
        "G…go..f-fuc -" She broke off w/ a grunt as Drakkan stamped on her stomach. The torturer was opening his bag. Lady Death shifted and looked on in dreadful fascination, seemingly unable to take her eyes off the spectacle. They had their backs to her, blocking most of her view. The torturer rummaged around and pulled something out of his bag. He leaned over Purgatori and Lady Death saw her legs kick as she shrieked.
       That could be me. Lady Death’s stomach knotted. So human. I have got to get out of here. Purgatori screamed. Lady Death watched her flailing and kicking as she tried to get away from the torturer - or, more likely knowing her, tried to tear his heart out. Drakkan was standing on her wrists, pinning her helplessly. The big torturer shifted position slightly to get better access. Lady Death saw what they were doing to Purgatori and turned her head, revolted. Oh sweet lord. A snatch of Drakkan’s initial conversation jumped into her head. Three years?! They’ve been doing things like THAT to her for three years?! Lady Death felt sick, and more than a little surprised that she was suddenly feeling sympathy for Purgatori. Even she herself, she realised, wouldn’t have done things like that to Purgatori. She might have tortured her for a day or two, or maybe even a few weeks, but three years…? She might be my only hope. Purgatori screamed again, and the pain in her tone made Lady Death’s skin tighten. Isn’t that a worrying thought? Teaming up w/ that bitch. The one who imprisoned my mother’s soul. The one who destroyed the remains of Asgard. Wouldn’t that be a bitter irony? What choice do I have? How long can I wait, hoping Cremator or Vandala will save me? Not long, not if they do THAT to me.
        Lady Death rolled over and tried to block out the shrieks, frantically trying to come up w/ a plan.

        "Purgatori."
        She groaned as someone shook her shoulder. The movement jarred her spine.
        "Purgatori!"
        Again the urgent whisper. She opened her eyes and saw another pair looking back at her. She tried to snarl, but her lips were too badly bruised and swollen. "Get off me," she slurred. Why couldn’t that white whore just leave her in the safe blackness of sleep? Because she wants to feel me the pain. Tramp.
        "Purgatori, we need to get out of here."
        "Really!" Purgatori managed to spit. "If it wasn’t for you we probably wouldn’t be here!"
        "You think I should have trusted you?" Lady Death flared. "You would not have trusted - "
        "Are you naked?"
        "Dammit Purgatori!" Lady Death snapped, unconsciously covering her chest. "Stop being childish! Where exactly are we? Do you know?"
        "In my dungeons."
        "Your dungeons?"
        "Yes. You’re in my world now brat. These are the dungeons under my palace."
       Palace, Lady Death thought. She has a palace. What sort of empire has she managed to build for herself? She thought of herself, living in a solitary castle in a harsh wasteland and had to force back a twinge of jealousy. "How do we get out?"
        "Through the door."
        "Purgatori! I warn you - "
        "You warn me what, wretch?" Purgatori growled. "You’re just another piece of meat here so drop your pathetic attitude. I’m in no mood for your pretentious babbling after what I’ve been through."
        Lady Death felt the animosity rise up, that old hatred of this red-skinned creature. "You’re not the only one who’s been tortured, bat. You think I want to stay here?"
        "Probably," Purgatori snapped. She had only seen the first minute or so of Lady Death’s assault by the group of men before blacking out but had heard what Drakkan had said to her. "I hear you like group sessions."
        Lady Death shrieked w/ rage and launched herself at Purgatori. Purgatori was in no condition to defend herself. Lady Death fell on her and beat her face to a bloody pulp.
        Lady Death punched Purgatori again, and considered the flare of pain from her knuckles a fine price to pay for the satisfaction of knocking that slut’s head almost off her shoulders. She grinned down at the vampiress, feeling more like her old self again, and then suddenly the grin faded. Nice one. That was your only potential ally. Lady Death sat back and looked at her handiwork. At any other time - say, a couple of brief seconds ago - smacking that vampire bitch around would have given her the most delicious pleasure. Right now though, it was entirely possible that her rage had completely screwed her. Any chance of uniting w/ Purgatori had probably flown right out the window.
        A heavy hand fell on the top of her head, making her squeal in surprise - she hadn’t heard the door unlock or any movement of any kind. Drakkan grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her to her feet. Her vision blurred w/ tears of pain.
        "So," Drakkan said w/ a terrifying icy calm. "It seems you haven’t learnt your lesson. What did I tell you last time?"
        "I - huh?" Lady Death stammered. The fright and the pain from her scalp addled her head.
        Drakkan slashed her open from crotch to breasts, his claws tearing four deep ruts in her flesh. Blood flowed, hot red against cool white. Lady Death howled and clutched at herself, futilely trying to keep the blood inside her. "I told you," Drakkan said patiently, "that Purgatori was mine and mine alone to play w/. I had some fine entertainment lined up for her tonight." He lifted Lady Death to eye level, her feet kicking in free air. "You will just have to take her place."
        "No!"
        "Ahhh : the sweet smell of terror." He dropped Lady Death on the floor and she scrambled away. "I will be back in a few hours. Maybe I should consider healing Purgatori completely and letting her play w/ you for a while…"
        "Rather her than you, bastard!" Lady Death managed.
        "That’s what I thought you might say, though I suspect you would change your mind after a couple of hours. Purgatori is quite the vindictive one. Still, I will decide on that later. Meanwhile, you can wait here and try and guess what I’m going to do to you for disobeying me."
        Lady Death watched him go and began to shake. So Drakkan was a master of mindgames too. She shrank back, looking at Purgatori’s limp form. A little yellow spark flashed on her face. It was her fault. She shouldn’t have said - said THAT. That little bitch must have been watching and laughing at me the whole time! She glared sullenly at Purgatori. Bitch. I bet she just loved it. And she’s getting me punished again. Rotten red bitch. She sat up against the cold sharp rock wall and hugged herself gingerly, trying to keep herself warm w/out opening up the coagulating wound on her belly. How badly had that little episode set things back?
        She waited, trembling, for Drakkan to come back.

        She swam close to consciousness once, and it seemed that she was a child again. She was in pain because Matthias had thrashed her again, and she was snuggled up in Marion’s arms, sobbing her little eyes out. Except, Matthias was dead, Marion was part of her now, and she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was too wracked w/ pain to try and work it all out. Someone held her and she sank back into blackness.
        She began to surface again. She could hear nothing, could only feel the chill of the rock she lay face down on. She opened her eyes and gazed blearily at the rock. How long had she been out? A long time, judging by how well she felt, unless Drakkan had increased the power of his healing magick. She rolled over and saw Purgatori sitting close by, watching her. Instinctively Lady Death moved to cover herself up as much as possible and forced herself into a sitting position. They looked at each other in silence, neither one wanting to speak first, nor indeed knowing what to say.
        "Enjoy watching that, did you?" Lady Death asked finally.
        "Almost as much as you enjoy beating up helpless cripples."
        "Shut up, cow. It was your own stupid mouth that earned you that."
        "How thoughtless of me."
        Lady Death glared back at her, wanting to snap out some smart comeback but not wanting to do anything else that would worsen the position between them - if that was indeed possible.
        "Give me some blood."
        Lady Death spat an oath at Purgatori. "Am I still dreaming, or did you just come out w/ the stupidest comment I have ever heard you utter?!"
        "If we’re going to escape I need to be stronger to work my sorcery. I haven’t been fed properly since he caught me. I’m famished."
        Lady Death’s eyes narrowed. "You’re NOT getting any of my blood, slut. Think of another way." Purgatori just sat and looked at her. "Why your change of mind, all of a sudden?" Lady Death asked warily.
        "I need to get out. I need to stop him."
        "And as soon as I help you escape you’ll kill me for what I did to you," Lady Death guessed icily.
        "No," Purgatori said tonelessly. "That is of no concern to me. I have already had payment for that beating."
        "What?" Lady Death said in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
        "I ravished you while you were unconscious. You have a lovely body, especially when it is bruised and bleeding. That sweet seduction far outweighed anything you did."
        Lady Death was aghast. She opened her mouth twice before she could manage to form any words. "W-w-WHAT?! You WHORE!! You...you mean you -!! When I was -!!" The thought was so horrid she couldn’t voice it.
        "Maybe," Purgatori said blandly. "Maybe not. You’ll never know. Maybe that torment would be what I would consider fair revenge. Knowing what a twisted bitch I am, and all."
        Lady Death gaped at her. "You whore," she breathed. Purgatori was right - the uncertainty was almost worse than what Drakkan had done to her. "I swear Purgatori, if I ever find out you - "
        "But you won’t," Purgatori said dismissively. "Give me some blood."
        "Go to Hell!"
        "I thought you might be your usual stubborn self," Purgatori sighed, "so I licked some off your breasts before you woke."
        It was almost an exact replay, except this time Lady Death was the weaker one and Purgatori shoved her to the ground easily. "Don’t be stupid girl. We can fight amongst ourselves when we are out of here."
        "Slut!"
        Purgatori slapped her face, hard. "You’re in here because of your own ignorance. If you want to stay here just say so and I’ll save my breath."
        Lady Death spat on her. Purgatori slapped her again, harder, right on the same reddening handprint and Lady Death’s eyes brimmed w/ tears at the sting. "Don't be stupid - I can keep this up all might if you want." And to prove it, she slapped the other cheek.
        "OOOWW!! J-Just wait till you're asleep, harlot!"
        "For the love of Horus!" Purgatori cried in exasperation. "Forget it! You’re too childish to listen to reason!" She got up and moved to the other side of the cell, sitting w/ her back to Lady Death.
        Lady Death sat up, panting hard, her cheeks burning. Every instinct screamed at her to rush over there and finish what she had started last time, but she knew that would be a mistake. Grudgingly, she admitted Purgatori was right - she was, after all, just repeating what Lady Death herself had originally said : they needed to get out, and could squabble later if they wanted.
        "Purgatori."
        "What?"
        "I want an agreement. When we get out of here, I get to kill Drakkan."
        "I am going to fight him and his forces. If you want a chance to kill him, you can either fight w/ me, or against me."
        "Hah! Can I trust you?!"
        "As much as I can trust you."
        "Pff. Alright : we fight together, but I will be the one to take Drakkan’s head. If you cannot agree to that, we have no deal."
        "Drakkan is just one part of the whole picture. I have other things to worry about. As long as he dies, I care not how it happens, or who does it. If you think you're capable of taking his head, you're welcome to try."
        "Fine. Then we fight together bitch. But as soon as this threat is over, we will settle the accounts between us, agreed?"
        "Deal."
        "Deal," Lady Death agreed, and felt a momentary sensation of utter surprise. I’ve just agreed to team up w/ my worst enemy! "Now : answer me sensibly this time - how do we get out of here?"
        "As I said, out the door. I built these cells : I made sure they were escape-proof."
        "So we just walk out?" Lady Death sneered.
        "We have to bait the guards to open the door, then take them."
        "And how do you intend that we do that?"
        "Do I have to come up w/ ALL the ideas? Anyway, they’ve become complacent. They’re used to me being too injured to do anything. If you give me blood, I can…"
        The corridor brightened, driving back some of the shadows in the cell. Footsteps padded along the corridor. Lady Death turned hesitantly as the door unlocked, and her jaw fell.
        "Vulnavia!"
        Vulnavia regarded her w/ a scarily blank expression. "My master says I’ve been a good girl. He told me to come and play."
        Lady Death gaped. "Vulnavia, it’s me! Don’t you recognise me?!"
        "You’re wasting your breath," Purgatori said.
        "What did you do to her, you bitch!" Lady Death hissed at her. "You - "
        "I turned her into a vampire and took her as my consort - my willing consort - for a while. She has long been turned against me."
        "Bah!"
        "If she were still loyal to me, she would have died trying to save me," Purgatori said simply.
        Lady Death was still considering this when Vulnavia kicked her across the jaw. She fell backwards, stunned. Vulnavia watched her expressionlessly, waited for her to struggle into a sitting position and then kicked her again. Lady Death flattened w/ a wail.
        "Vulnavia."
        The Valkyrie turned around and Purgatori punched her squarely in the face, crunching her nose. She fell over and scrambled immediately to her feet, splashing blood. She raised her fists w/ a hiss of hate.
        "Vulnavia!" The Valkyrie spun at the voice. "Please tell me you weren’t going to play w/ MY toy…?"
        "B..but my Lord…she struck me!"
        "Then I will discipline her. You have your own pet to play w/."
        "...Yes lord."
        Drakkan strode in and dragged Purgatori up by her horns. "Come w/ me Purgatori. Time to visit one of your special rooms."
        Purgatori went w/out struggling. She knew from bitter experience that she would need every scrap of energy she had.

        Purgatori lay on her back. Tonight’s - or was it yesterday’s? - session had been remarkably bland, considering Drakkan’s usual inventiveness when it came to inflicting pain. He had simply handcuffed her hands behind her back and put her on the piquet : two long vertical stakes set into the ground. It was deceptively simple. W/ your hands tied behind you and a noose around your neck you were made to stand on the stakes' tips and either endured the excruciating agony of your own body weight driving the pointed tips of the stakes into the bare tender soles of your feet, or you fell off and hanged yourself. Of course, Purgatori couldn’t die by being hanged, but having her neck snapped, her throat crushed and her neck and shoulder muscles wrenched apart was not her idea of a pleasant evening.
        She wiggled her toes and felt them move : the broken vertebrae had healed. She moved her head fractionally and the other damage sent a massive wallop of pain through her body. She moaned and lay back, resting as well as she was able, keeping her shoulders and head still, and drifted off, feeling the magick healing her slowly.
        Some unknown time later she was woken by a muffled thump somewhere far off. She lay looking at the shadows that cloaked the ceiling and waited to see who was coming. She moved her head again, and this time the pain was no worse than a severe cramp. He feet were a different story : they throbbed w/ a deep agony that made her feel nauseous.
        She sat up and looked over at Lady Death, turning her head very very slowly. Lady Death was still out cold. Vulnavia had, pardon the crudity, beaten the living sht out of her. Probably worked out some of her frustration at me out on her too, by the look, Purgatori thought. She looked at her blood, smeared over a good portion of that sexy smooth white skin and licked her lips hungrily. It looked soooo tasty. Surely she could take just a couple of licks? A couple of small licks?
        A huge shadow blotted out most of the light from the corridor. There was a sharp sizzle and a wave of heat and the lock box of the door fell to the ground in a jellied puddle of melted metal.
        Cremator rushed over to Lady Death and touched her cheek tenderly. "Milady?" he said hoarsely. She didn’t respond. He glanced around the cell and as soon as he saw Purgatori his eyes blazed. "You!"
        Purgatori shuffled back in alarm as he got slowly and deliberately to his feet. "Cremator, wait!" In her magickless state she was extremely vulnerable to a brute like Cremator. W/ his strength and power he would absolutely pulverise her if he hit her.
        He stood over her, dwarfing her, his hands clenched into huge boulders of fists. "I should kill you for what you’ve done to her."
        "I didn’t do that!"
        "I don’t care. You’ve done enough." He slowly unclenched his fists. "Milady is my concern now." He turned and lifted Lady Death, cradling her w/ a tenderness that seemed impossible for one of his build, and headed for the door.
        "Wait!"
        Cremator paused, looking at her contemptuously. "What?"
        "I can’t walk! My feet…!"
        Cremator glanced down at her ravaged soles. "So? We’re not here to rescue you."
        Purgatori blinked. "W-what? You can’t leave me here!"
        "Watch me."
        "Cremator you bastard! Lady Death needs me! We made a deal! We - "
        Cremator’s laugh cut her off. "Yes! Of course! Save your jokes for your captor."
        "You bastard! No! Wait!" She stood up frantically and instantly collapsed as pain speared through her. She scrambled to her knees, her face contorting at the pain from her feet and neck. Cremator supported Lady Death awkwardly on one massive arm and pulled the door shut behind him. He looked in at Purgatori, his shadowed face still plainly showing his hate and contempt, then he deliberately gripped the bars where the door and frame abutted each other and a burst of Hellfire welded the door shut.
        "NOOO!"
        Cremator strode off w/out a word or a backward glance.
        "Cremator you MOTHERFKR!!"
        Nothing but fading footsteps.
        "No!" she whispered. She reached the door and strained against the still warm bars. They didn’t budge. "Sweet Isis," Purgatori whispered. She thought of what Drakkan’s reaction would be when he found out one of his prize catches had gone, taken from under his nose. His guards were to blame, but she would be the one he would take it out on. "Please Isis, please…please let me catch up w/ him some day…"

--- o O o ---         "Is it done?"
        Cremator slammed the door behind him, shutting out the winter wind. "Destroyed. They will have to craft another portal if they wish to come after us. That should buy us some time. How is she?"
        "Bad," Vandala said. "Very bad. I can sense her powers returning, but I think her body might give out before they return enough to help her. The healing magicks eroded almost the instant we came through the portal."
        Cremator stood by the fire, dripping melting snow on the floor. For the first time since he had known her it looked as though he might lose her. And it wasn’t due to some fantastical monster or enemy, it wasn’t due to any elaborate sorcery or enchanted weapon : it was due to nothing more than a beating, a fist fight. He didn’t know who was responsible, but if she did die he would spend eternity hunting them down and making them suffer. If he didn’t die of a broken heart first.
        "Is there nothing you can do?"
        "I have done all I can. We can but pray and put faith in her tenaciousness."
        Cremator gritted his teeth and gazed out the window at the snow flurries. If only there was an enemy I could fight. Something I could kill or destroy that would save her. I feel so useless. Wait. All I can do is wait. --- o O o ---         Purgatori screamed and fell heavily to her knees. A sharp nodule of stone rammed into her kneecap, adding to her agony. She convulsed, hunching forward as if punched in the gut. There was a lump of meat on the ground in front of her; red, raw, wet and tattered.
        Her left forearm.
        Sweet peaceful blackness rose up to envelope her, promising blessed relief from her pain. She welcomed it gladly, and then all of a sudden a bright yellow wave barged in between them and pushed away the blackness.
        "You will not escape into unconsciousness this time, girl," Drakkan said, licking her blood off his teeth. He watched her flop and writhe for a moment then picked up her arm, held her immobile and pressed the severed limb back into place. Yellow worms of energy slithered and crawled over the wound and healed it. He let her go and she fell over, contorting and spasming. "This is just the beginning Purgatori. I can keep biting bits off you and rejoin them as long as I need to. You will not die. You will not pass out. You will experience every single second of agony."
        "Idiot!" Purgatori screamed. "Why wouldn’t I tell you! They left me here!"
        "You wouldn’t tell me because you’re a stubborn bitch."
        "I don’t know where they went, or who took her!" Purgatori grated between clenched teeth. "You can torture me all you want, you will not get a different answer!"
        "I will."
        Purgatori raised her head, shaking w/ the effort. "You’re pathetic! If you keep hurting me, I’ll just make something up to keep you happy."
        "Then I’ll keep torturing you until I’m sure."
        Purgatori grated laughter. "Truly stupid. Why don’t you just learn to read minds, retard?"
        Drakkan roared and smashed his fists down on her shoulders, breaking her collarbones and dislocating the joints.
        "My Lord." Rourke had to speak loudly to be heard over the shrieks.
        "What?"
        "The Gate to the third world has been disabled."
        Drakkan went ballistic. He lashed out at Rourke and knocked him backwards into the door, wreathed in yellow power. He picked up Purgatori and slammed her repeatedly against the wall, then reached behind her and snapped her wings. At last Drakkan got himself under control and stood glowering at Purgatori’s shuddering form.
        "Vulnavia."
        "Yes, my Lord?"
        "Get a team. Dig a pit. A wide, deep pit."
        "Yes my Lord…?"
        "Fill it w/ the waste of the human scum who live here, then take this harpy and drown her in it. I have had enough of her. Her mother obviously doesn’t care about her - I will waste no more of my time w/ her."
        "…but, Lord…"
        "What?"
        Vulnavia backed away from those burning eyes, her head lowered. "She is a vampire, Lord. She cannot drown."
        Drakkan glared at her then looked at Purgatori thoughtfully. "Even better," he said at last. "The thought of her spending eternity choking at the bottom of a pool of festering excrement is extremely satisfying."
        "Yes, Lord."
        Vulnavia was almost at the door when a groan stopped her. Rourke stirred and looked up at her blearily. "V-Vulna-avia…"
        Drakkan strode over and kicked him into unconsciousness. "Hmm. Seems my power burnt out his conversion spell. Oh well. Let him stay that way, he can anguish over his betrayal to his red slut while he awaits his fate. Vulnavia, bring guards on your way out, I want this sack of meat taken to the prisoner-of-war camps."
        "Yes, lord." She turned and headed out into the corridor.
        "Wait Vulnavia." Drakkan was watching the writhing Purgatori w/ a sly smile on his lips. "Forget what I said about Purgatori... Let her heal fully. I have a much better idea."

        That greasy maggot was eyeing him up again. Snake Eyes stumbled along in the middle of the eight men, his blood-clotted hair plastered across his face. He knew two of these scum; they were on the bounty list for murder, rape and arson. The rest of them, including the fag who was eyeing him up, were strangers and looked like minor-leaguers, petty scum who had fallen in w/ the big boys through chance, probably.
        Cobra had been leading hit-and-run missions against Drakkan ever since delicious Demonica had arrived. Cobra was a Marshal, and that meant he wandered around as needed to enforce what little law existed in this country. Every clan or tribe that weren’t outright anarchists had Marshals, marked by the tattooed stripe across their nose. They were overworked and prime targets for assassination but they all believed in what they were doing. Purgatori had helped. It was, of course, in her best interests to have as little anarchy as possible surrounding her empire and her trade routes, so she had adopted the Marshals, arming them and training them, giving them full support from the Blood Warriors where necessary. Cobra suspected her decision was influenced in no small part by Lexus but the result was all that mattered : the Marshals had gone from being an appreciated but slightly laughable concept to a valued and respected unit. Valued and respected by anybody, that is, but the types who had caught him.
        They had been ambushed inside one of the valve stations that controlled the flow of fresh water into New Necropolis. Getting into the city itself was virtually suicidal after the first few months, once Drakkan had cottoned on to what was happening. After a good deal of losses they had taken to hit-and-run tactics, luring patrols out, or even individuals, just gradually chipping away at the forces little by little. It was a losing battle. For each one they killed, it seemed that two more were recruited in their place - he and Demonica had seen it themselves, when a member of their team had been captured. They had seen him beaten down, wounded, then enveloped in yellow energy. When it faded, he was lost to them. Demonica shot him. He had been a strong and resourceful fighter and a good ally, but he knew all about their operations and bases and they couldn’t afford to allow him to pass that information on.
        That seemed to have been a turning point. Things had gone into a slow downward spiral from that point, and Snake Eyes wondered whether or not another fighter had been captured and recruited.
        Cobra had led an attack on what was supposed to be a small, lightly armed force guarding the valve station - they had moved into subversive tactics, trying to prevent supplies and reinforcements reaching New Necropolis. It was a trap. There had been a force of Blood Warriors and Akerians waiting for them. It was a vicious fight and it had resulted in the near demolition of the station. The Blood Warriors and cats had powerful weapons and had obliterated Cobra’s team. Demonica had been lost in the confusion, he didn’t know if she was alive or dead. He had fought his way out, and he didn’t see anyone else make it. By some miracle he had not been badly hurt - the worst he had were bruises, cuts and scrapes, and a borderline concussion where a chunk of ceiling fell on him. He had seen other rebels - friends - getting torn apart by those huge felines. He had gotten out somehow, had made it out into the rock-strewn badlands that lay between the edge of the desert where the station was and the countryside that led to the river. He laid low, letting things cool down, letting himself heal.
        It was three days later when this bunch of idiots caught him. He was weakened from his injuries and had put up a good fight, but in the end he had lost. There had been twenty of them, after all. They took him alive - apparently there was some kind of bounty on the heads of rebels, especially Marshals. Drakkan had figured that if he couldn’t capture or kill them by himself he might as well get someone else to do it for him.
        Snake Eyes trudged on along the narrow path that led up, down, in and out the craggy boulders that made up the scenery here. They had been walking since sunrise, almost fourteen hours ago, making slow progress as they headed North away from New Necropolis - they were planning to hold him and barter w/ Drakkan for a better bounty; tactics Snake Eyes thought would get them nothing but killed. The sun was lowering, darkening the sky from bright blue to bruised purple. They made a tight left turn, squeezing into a narrow cleft in the rocks and edged two hundred metres to where the passage opened out into the bandits’ camp. Set in a deep bowl-shaped clearing it was perfectly camouflaged from the road and perfectly suited for their uses. They had put up tents at one end, and the wide area gave them room to store supplies and booty. They chained Cobra to a stake hammered into the rockface and left him, guarded by the guy who had been eyeing him up. Snake Eyes shifted and tried to get comfortable : the chain was very short and secured fairly high up on the wall, making the steel collar pull uncomfortably tight when he sat.
        The two of them were alone - the others had gone to the far end of the camp to eat. They didn’t seem to like the fag, tolerating him only because they probably needed safety in numbers. Snake Eyes waited, watching the guy. It was stifling : the rock had absorbed the sun’s heat through the day and was now radiating it, the bowl-shaped clearing concentrating and amplifying the warmth. The guard sat several metres away, idly bouncing the keys to Cobra’s shackles in his palm, not happy at having been given first watch and having to wait to eat. And if things went as usual, they would ‘forget’ about him and relieve his watch anything up to half-an-hour late. He picked up a metal water bottle and swigged deeply. He glanced about randomly, humming tuneless nothings under his breath.
        "Hey."
        He jumped slightly at the sound of the low voice and saw Snake Eyes looking at him through strands of hair. "What?"
        Cobra looked him up and down. "What do I have to do to get a drink of your water?" he asked in the same low sexy voice that made Demonica melt. He could see the surprise, indecision and interest flicker on the guard’s face.
        "What?" they guy asked, snatching a glance behind him to make sure they were alone. Snake Eyes just smiled at him and licked his dry lips slowly. The guard stood up and took a hesitant step forward, interest fighting w/ caution. Yeah, that guy in the chains was very attractive. Big muscles, youngish looking face and lovely long hair. He took another step forward and reached out, brushing the hair from Cobra’s face. "What are you willing to do?" he asked hoarsely, making a very bad attempt at trying to sound casual and in control. Snake Eyes just smiled at him and this time it was the guard who licked his lips. He stepped closer, fumbling at the rawhide cord of his trousers. His other hand slid down, stroking Cobra’s cheek and brushing over his lips. Snake Eyes jerked his head and sank his long fangs into the soft meat between the man’s thumb and forefinger.
        "Ooowww you fkr!" He wrenched his hand out and punched Cobra, a fairly unimpressive blow. He grabbed at the wooden stick he had taken from this slitty-eyed bastard, fully intending to beat him to a pulp and rape him, and found that his fingers wouldn’t work properly. He lifted his arm in confusion; it seemed to weigh twice as much as usual. The flesh around the punctures was melting. The arm flopped down as the elbow and shoulder muscles gave up. He gaped at his captive and opened his mouth to cry for help. His jaw just flopped open and hung there as blood flowed over his lips. He crumpled to his knees and keeled over beside Snake Eyes, smashing his skull open on the rock wall.
        "Like that, you fag scum?" Snake Eyes breathed. He scanned the camp tents but no-one was moving, or visible. He twisted around awkwardly, ignoring the blood that trickled down his neck where the metal cut him as he fumbled blindly along the corpse. For a moment he thought the fkr had fallen too far away or had dropped the keys, and then his fingers felt the ridged metal shapes. He got them free and unlocked himself, flexing his joints to work the stiffness out of them. He pulled the stick from under the body w/ a grin. His guns were w/ the other gang members, but he had his baby now. It was a niten - it looked like a normal piece of three centimetre thick oak, amybe thirty-six inches long. He pulled it apart and it separated in the centre to become a pair of short swords, the handle of each sword forming the scabbard for the other blade. The blades were special, Blood Metal enchanted for him by Purgatori herself - they extended smoothly, magickally, to full length. Snake Eyes opened his mouth and inhaled deeply, sucking air over his Jacobson’s Organ. He could taste them all, sense where they were.
        They didn’t last long.

        The Doom Magistrate dragged Purgatori into the main audience hall. She clung on its arm, trying to ease the pain in her shoulders.
        "Ah. Here’s our main attraction."
        The Doom Magistrate dropped her roughly and she sprawled, falling to her hands and knees w/ a curse. She looked up and saw that the hall was packed w/ people. Most of her remaining Jackals were there, and high-ranking members of her city and the surrounding territories. They seemed to be roughly divided into two groups : those under Drakkan’s control - blank-faced and passive - and those who had been brought here to witness what happened to people who defied him - nervous and worried. So : she was to be made a public example of. And what a fine example she would make - the most powerful and feared ruler, helpless and defeated. She doubted anyone would not think twice before defying Drakkan after he did whatever he meant to do to her. Well, she would make sure she gave them another lesson : that Purgatori would face her fate as defiant as ever, that she may be defeated, but she would never be subjugated. She stood and squared her shoulders, not caring that she was naked before a room full of people, people who had been her subjects.
        "Get on w/ it you flea-ridden vermin," she snarled. "Nobody here thinks your attempts at casualness are remotely impressive."
        His expression blackened momentarily. "As you wish." He gestured and two Doom Magistrates walked in carrying a silver casket between them. They placed it on the ground and opened the lid. It was seven feet long, three feet wide and deep, and was engraved w/ mystical symbols. The metal glowed w/ the faint yellow aura of Chaotic sorcery. Purgatori looked at it and then back at Drakkan, determined not to show any reaction. Drakkan gestured at one of the Doom Magistrates and it reached down. A hand-hold had been cut into the floor in the middle of the hall and she watched w/ a mixture of trepidation and anger (They’ve ruined my mosaics!) as the Doom Magistrate lifted up a large section of flooring to reveal a gaping pit. The Doom Magistrate behind her grabbed her by the shoulders and she struggled briefly as it pushed her forward. Stories of Leviatha flashed through her head.
        They’re going to bury me alive!
        The insect pushed her to the pit, ignoring her frantic struggles. She looked down into the pit and saw a shaft, bored vertically down by some powerful magick, smooth-walled and perfectly straight, running deep, deep. Bright orange liquid glowed potently at the bottom of the shaft, illuminating it in a sullen sunset. As soon as she saw the lava Purgatori knew what he had planned and she abandoned her plan for a noble and dignified stand. She twisted and writhed frantically, punching and kicking at the Doom Magistrate, but in her powerless state she might as well have been attacking a metal sculpture. The insect’s fingers sank into the musclature of her shoulders and she cried out as it lifted her up and carried her over to the sarcophagus. Yellow magic swathed her body.
        "This magic," Drakkan said, his voice carrying clearly to every ear in the hall, "is a much more potent version of that which you have already tasted. It does nothing but keep you aware and awake. It will keep you alive w/out healing you. The sorcery in this coffin will ensure your torment. The metal it is constructed from is the same as that which coats your palace, rendering your sorcery inoperative."
        "You rancid worm! I’ll -"
        "You will do nothing but burn for eternity, slutchild. Suffer, bitch, knowing that your mother could have saved you, but didn’t."
        "NO!!"
        The Doom Magistrate hurled her into the coffin. She cracked her head off the floor of the casket and blood splashed into her eyes as she lay stunned. Shadow fell over her and then the lid of the sarcophagus fell into place w/ the clanging ring of a death knell. The insect secured the lid latches and looked over at Drakkan for orders. He looked at the casket, savouring the moment and wishing that it was transparent, then he gave a jerk of his head and the Doom Magistrate kicked the coffin into the pit.
        Purgatori felt the blow’s impact and a second later her stomach clenched up as she plummetted. The fall seemed to go on forever, then all of a sudden it stopped as the coffin splashed into the viscous liquid rock. Purgatori was slammed around w/ the impact. One of her wing limbs broke and she wailed miserably in the pitch black. She squirmed around, thumping at the metal, struggling to support herself as the head end of the sarcophagus began to sink and she slid up against the metal.
        It was getting hot fast. The metal was already uncomfortable to the touch. She tried to push herself up to keep her breasts and belly away from the heat and her palms began to cook. The metal of the casket began to glow, a very faint deep red, growing brighter fast and changing from red to orange to yellow. She wailed in pain and hot air seared the lining of her mouth and lungs. The coffin sank further and tilted almost vertically and she slid, jamming her skull and shoulders against the metal. Her hair sizzled. She could see the wisps of smoke in the sick yellow light of the walls, the brightness and heat scalding her eyes as the yellow gave way to white.
        Purgatori began to scream.

        Rourke woke up w/ his head thumping. He was on hard ground, pressed against a rough stone wall. He opened his eyes to gloom and saw people packed around him, dirty and frightened. He sat up and took stock of where he was. He was in one of the holding cells of the prisoner-of-war camp. On occasion, Purgatori took prisoners : sometimes a couple, sometimes many. Some she forced to fight in her Arena. Some she used as examples in public executions. Some she fed to Sebek. Still others she used to trade w/ the people she was fighting, if by chance they had captured any of her troops. She liked to kill enemies, but was wise enough to recognise their value under the right circumstances. The camp was designed to hold five hundred people, and by the look of things it was filled to capacity although all the people in it seemed to be citizens of New Necropolis and related territories.
        Rourke rubbed his face to try and wake himself up a bit and noticed a dishevelled woman looking at him. "Who are you?" he asked in a low voice. "What are we doing here?"
        The look of surprise on her face turned to anger and hate. "You bastard!"
        "What?!"
        "You took my husband and children and left me in torment for six months before you returned to bring ME here," she spat. "Now you’re here yourself. Good. I pray they take you before me so that I can watch."
        "I have no idea what you’re talking about woman," Rourke said, trying to keep a neutral tone. Several others nearby had woken up and were following the conversation w/ various degrees of interest and trepidation. He saw hate and recognition in several faces and wondered how many of these people were here because of him : how many enemies were in here w/ him for some reason he did not know. "I was hypnotised by Drakkan. We all w - "
        The woman tried to spit at him, but weakened and dehydrated as she was, it was a feeble gesture. "A pathetic excuse! Does a brave and noble warrior like you not even have the courage to face up to his actions?"
        Rourke shifted nervously as a few muttered agreements rippled through the crowd. He was seven feet tall and built like a rhino - he could snap this woman, and probably any other person in the cell, like a twig w/ one hand, but he was outnumbered about fifty to one, and even he didn’t like those odds. Aside from which, he had no compunction about getting into a fight of those odds w/ enemies, but a fight w/ civilians of his own city…
        "Listen to me woman…all of you," he said. "You know who I am, so you know of my loyalty to the Empress. You think I would turn against her after all she has done for me? For us?"
        "A man who has done what you have done would be capable of anything," the woman snorted, but Rourke thought there was a trace of doubt in her voice.
        "Then why am I here?"
        "I don’t care!"
        "Why are you here?" another sullen voice asked. "Did you betray Drakkan like you betrayed Purgatori?"
        Rourke rose to his feet, his fists clenched. "I did not betray Purgatori, and never would," he said tightly. "If anyone else wants to question my loyalty to her, step forward. All at once, if you wish."
        They grumbled and muttered to themselves. He heard comments about how brave he was, threatening weak civilians.
        "Shut up in there!" The people cringed and fell silent, huddling down on the floor as if hoping they could sink into it to escape the guard’s gaze. "You! Down, now!"
        Rourke sat down slowly, sizing the guard up. He knew the man, a sergeant who had fought w/ him once or twice - he could take him out easily, and take his weapon. The problem would be the Doom Magistrates and the cats. How many were here? He nudged the man closest to him w/ his boot as soon as the guard had walked out of earshot.
        "The insects and the cats : how many are here?"
        "Depends on the time, obviously."
        "What do you mean?"
        "What, are you stupid?" the woman asked. "Or do you expect us to believe you have forgotten this too?"
        "I told you woman - "
        "There’s more of them at feeding time you bastard! We’re livestock for them! They come and consume us alive!" the woman raged. "You took my husband and children and they’ve been eaten alive! I hope you rot in the Pit for eternity you scum!" Her rage expended itself and she collapsed in tears.
        Rourke was stunned. Sweet Goddess! What is happening here? Insects and cats that eat men alive?! What’s happened? What have I done? What became of my Empress? I can…barely remember…
        I need to get out of here.
        Yes : easy to say. Lots of people here - could he organise them into a force? The key would be to rush a Doom Magistrate or an Akerian and get its weapon. Would they fight? Look at them - soft civilians, untrained, weakened and hurt. They probably would - any alternative to being eaten alive was probably worth a try, but would they fight for him? He looked around and saw wary faces, faces that looked at him w/ either fear or hate or anger, faces filled w/ resignation.
        He looked over to the man again. "When’s the next feeding time?"
        "Depends. They come to the cages at random, it seems."
        Rourke sat back and thought. Random. That might give him a chance to scope out the situation, and their habits and procedures…unless Drakkan had given orders that he was one of the first to be taken. Well, if they did come for him, he would go down fighting. He jerked his head back, flicking his long hair out of his eyes. He sat awake, watching the guards, counting the faces and timing them.

--- o O o ---         Lady Death stirred and shifted position, pulling the quilt tighter around her, snuggling down inside the cosy warmth. She sighed deeply and stretched languidly, then -
       Quilt!
        Her eyes flew open and she saw the softly lit familiar surroundings of her own bedroom. It had to be a dream, had to be, one of those stupid wish-fulfilment things. It had to be, because she was still in Purgatori’s dungeon, battered and unconscious after her beating at the hands of her sister.
        "Milady!"
        She looked around at the unexpected voice and saw Cremator standing by the foot of the bed. Her wolf was there too, watching her and panting happily w/ his ears pricked up.
        "Cremator?" she asked doubtfully. It was amazing how vivid this dream was, she could tell every detail.
        "Yes," he said hoarsely, and she could even hear the tremor in his voice, see the emotion in his eyes.
        The wolf padded over and licked her cheek. She recoiled in surprise and that more than anything else made her realise that this wasn’t a dream after all. It was, fantastically, real.
        "Cremator! What happened? Did you rescue me?"
        "Yes milady. We discovered Purgatori’s portal into her world and followed you. Vandala tracked your angelic energies."
        Lady Death took this in and just lay, scarcely able to believe that she was free, that she had been rescued from that horrendous place of torture.
        "Hope!" Vandala’s joyful cry made her roll over to face the door but Vandala was already at her side, bending over the bed to hug her. Lady Death flinched at the grip, but the pain she felt was nothing compared to what she had expected. "Hope! You’re safe now!"
        "Yes. But…" Her fingers probed carefully at her face, hunting for damage.
        "You are fine Hope," Vandala said. "No scars. You have healed well." She frowned slightly for a second. "It seems almost a miracle. For three days you were at death’s door and then yesterday when we came to see you in the morning you were so much better we could not believe it. I suppose your powers must have returned to heal you…"
        "I feel better. I can feel my power flowing freely."
        "Good. I suggest you still rest for another day or so, just to be sure."
        "No. I cannot wait," Lady Death said. She sat up experimentally and sucked in breath w/ a grimace at the pain in her back, ribs and hips. "How did you find me? Where did you find me?"
        "We followed you to the South-West and found the portal into Purgatori’s world," Vandala said. "We captured one of her Warriors and forced him to take us to her world, which appears to exist in a different plane to this one. I tracked your angelic presence and Cremator broke you out of the building you were being held captive in. We are safe - the portal to her world is destroyed."
        "Purgatori," Lady Death said. "What about her?"
        "Don’t worry about her," Cremator said w/ satisfaction. "We have taken care of her."
        "Good…" Lady Death said, lying back down slowly. "You were right Vandala. I feel I need a bit more rest. I am going to sleep for a while longer. Tell Purgatori we must talk as soon as I awake."
        There was a long, dense silence.
        "Sorry, milady?" Cremator asked w/ a horrendous feeling of dread sinking into him.
        "We need to make plans and prepare as soon as possible," Lady Death said to him. "Drakkan is a dangerous foe. We must be ready to…" She trailed off as she saw Cremator’s expression. "What?"
        "But, milady…" Cremator said haltingly.
        "What?"
        Cremator seemed unable to speak.
        "We didn’t bring her," Vandala said.
        Lady Death sat bolt upright, not noticing that the quilt fell away from her bare chest. "You WHAT?!" she cried.
        "But - but, milady -" Cremator stuttered.
        "You left her there?!"
        "What of it?" Vandala said. "I will not waste my strength rescuing that whore."
        "You ignorant fool!" Lady Death railed. "We need her! I had made a deal w/ her to try and fight this threat!"
        "But how were we to know?" Cremator asked in anguish. "When we last saw her you were trying to cut her head off!"
        Lady Death flopped back onto the bed, her hands clutching her hair. "No! No no no!"
        "But milady!"
        "Oh god," Lady Death muttered. "We need to get her. We have to pray your actions haven’t turned her against us."
        "You mean what she said was true?" Vandala said. "About a danger that threatened all worlds?"
        "Yes."
        "But what is it? Who is Drakkan? What - "
        "Vandala, I need to think! We need to get to Purgatori but you say you have destroyed the only way to that world!"
        "Fine, then I will leave you to think," Vandala said sharply and strode out of the bedroom w/out another word. Lady Death glowered after her.
        "How were we to know, milady?" Cremator asked softly.
        Lady Death sighed. "You were not. What is done is done. If there is no way of rescuing Purgatori then we must be prepared for what may come."
        "I will leave you to rest," he said.
        "Yes. I need to sleep and get myself fully healed."
        Cremator stood up and walked to the door. She could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was in deep anguish, the thought of having done something to greatly displease her gnawing at him.
        "Cremator."
        "Yes, milady?"
        "It is not your fault. I too would have left her to her fate."
        "Yes, milady." Still the dull tone.
        "Come here." He did so, and she sat up, clutching the quilt to her chest, and kissed his scarred cheek. "Thank you for rescuing me. You have no idea what you saved me from."
        The look of surprise and adoration on his face was almost comical, and she could tell that he was struggling to decide whether or not to kiss her back. He settled for bowing his head instead. "I would do anything for you, milady."
        She squeezed his huge tattooed shoulder. "I know, my faithful friend. Now let me rest."
        He left straight away and found Vandala fuming on the landing.
        "So at least you got a ‘thank you’ then."
        "She has been through a lot - "
        "Pah! She expects us to be mindreaders, and still barely shows any gratitude, despite what we did for her!"
        "Maybe something can still be salvaged. Perhaps Purgatori’s lover can help us."
        "Why would she help us after we locked her up?"
        "Because it would be helping Purgatori."
        "Hmph. Go and ask her then. I will stay here and ensure I do nothing further incorrectly."
        Cremator sighed as she stalked off to her bedroom. Women. Why do such beautiful creatures have to be so awkward?

        Lexus glared at Lady Death hatefully. "You tramp! I would kill you for that, but Purgatori would kill ME for denying her that pleasure!"
        "You don’t intimidate me girl," Lady Death grated. "If you don’t want to help your sweetheart just say so and I’ll send you back to the dungeons."
        Lexus just continued to glare. After waking up in the dungeons and having been kept there for almost a week she had now been pulled out and told that Lady Death had been rescued from New Necropolis but had left Purgatori behind.
        "I’ll take that as an agreement then," Lady Death said. "Now, how do we get to her?"
        "Through a Gate; a portal into her world."
        "The portal has been destroyed."
        Lexus gaped at her. "WHAT? How?"
        "We destroyed it to prevent Drakkan following us. It had to be done."
        Lexus moved w/ the speed of a striking snake and slapped her across the face. "You dumb bitch!! How are we supposed to get there then?!"
        Lady Death kicked her away w/ a snarl, raising her fist. "Insolent wench! Did you think we should have left that hateful pentagon standing, to let an army just walk in here as they please?"
        "It’s a triangle, you stupid scrubber. Pentagons have five sides."
        Lady Death hissed and took a step forward. "I CAN count, harlot. You are the idiot."
        "Five sides," Cremator agreed, his eyes flicking between the two women : if things got out of hand, he felt he should jump in between them. It wasn’t a prospect he relished.
        Lexus shifted her gaze to him w/ a frown. She still had a modicum of respect for Cremator. He had taken her in and fed her, and had obviously only locked her up due to the orders of this white whore. He had brought her food regularly and had seemed embarrassed at having to keep her imprisoned. "Purgatori’s Gates are triangular," she said w/ a spark of hope. "Whatever you destroyed, it was not created by her."
        "Then there is her Gate too?" Lady Death asked.
        "Yes," Lexus said to Cremator, refusing to acknowledge her. "Wait….the one I used was damaged….she…she must have redirected another Gate here…." Lexus trailed off, her mind racing. "I should be able to find it if it is nearby; I can sense her sorcery."
        "And when we get there?" Cremator asked Lady Death. "They will undoubtedly have reinforced her guard. And what if she has been moved?"
        "I can find her," Lexus said quietly. "If she’s not dead."
        "Then let us go immediately," Lady Death said. "Cremator, take her to get some suitable clothing and then help Brock prepare the horses while she scans for this Gate."
        "Yes, milady."
        "I want my gun back, too," Lexus said. "I will not go there unarmed."
        Cremator looked at Lady Death, who just shrugged. "Let her have her petty trinket."
        Lady Death headed for the armoury to select a sword. Apocalypse was gone. She had lost it in the fight. Cremator and Vandala had been at the site so it was a fair bet that it wasn’t lying around. That meant one of Drakkan’s warriors had taken it. She gritted her teeth as she walked, angry at feeling so apprehensive. Had she really gotten so dependant on enchanted weapons? Well…come to think of it, when had she fought w/out one? From her very first battle she had had Darkness, and then Nightmare. Then she had acquired the Scythe and, she admitted hatefully, the times she had fought w/out a weapon had not been exactly what could be described as successful. She had fought off creatures such as Kali - helped in no little way by a flood, however - but the one battle that had really stuck in her mind was the fight w/ Leviatha in Las Vegas, when she had gotten her arse kicked quite comprehensively. Still, she had her power back now, and she WOULD recover her property. And when she did, she would cleave that bastard Drakkan into slices thinner than a sheet of parchment

--- o O o ---         Garryk was stretched out on the rock, freshly bandaged and gratefully letting the heat from the lava pool soak into his weary muscles. He had returned from a hit-and-run mission that had targetted one of the the Akerian patrols that frequented the main road running from New Necropolis to the harbour. It had gone well. They had killed four of the cats and had suffered no losses, although a couple of them were pretty banged up. Garryk had been going non-stop for three days, and the elders had ordered him to rest for a day. He accepted gratefully. He had gone to the medics to get checked out, had grabbed some food - his first proper meal in four days - and had come here for some peace and quiet and some therapeutic heat.
        There was a thick splash off to his left but he paid it no mind. The metallic thunk sounded unusual, but he wasn’t interested enough to move or open his eyes.
        "Greetings Garryk. Might you be awake?"
        He smiled and sat up. "Greetings, Shenna. I was just resting. It is good to see you again. Where have you been these past few days?"
        "I have been searching for a place to rest, Garryk," Shenna sighed.
        "You must have had to search long and far to find a place worthy."
        "Thank you, Garryk," Shenna said. "I found something that I had to bring to you."
        "You found something?" Garryk frowned. "Please show me."
        Shenna slithered off and picked something up in her mouth. It was glowing bright white and Garryk hadn’t noticed it where she had deposited it on the rough rocks. She swam over to the shore and placed it on the ground several metres away. He could feel his skin tighten at the heat it gave off.
        "It is very magickal," Shenna said. "I could sense it from far off. Its magick is fairly repellant to me."
        He inspected the rectangular object and couldn’t identify it. "This is most unusual, Shenna. Might you know what it is?"
        "It is the flying one."
        "I’m afraid I don’t understand, Shenna."
        "The red one who flies, Garryk."
        Garryk was thoroughly confused. "Purgatori?"
        "Yes, Purgatori."
        Garryk paused, waiting for further elaboration, but Shenna happarently thought she had explained adequately. "What about her?"
        "I sense her inside."
        Garryk looked at the casket in horror. "Fk me!"
        "Pardon?"
        "Er, I crave your pardon Shenna, I was talking to myself. I need to get help, Shenna, please excuse me."
        "Of course Garryk, I will resume my search after I have had a nap."
        He ran all the way to the Garrison and found it almost deserted - most everyone was out on raids. He grabbed Anton, the first person he came to, and they ran all the way back, as fast as Garryk could manage.
        "Help me open it."
        "How, man? I can’t get near ‘cause of the heat. Shall I get some water to throw on it?"
        "Fk no!" Garryk cried. "It might explode. Use your sword to flip the catches, I’ll try and shield you w/ my jacket."
        "Aye, that’ll work!" Anton snorted. "What’s the point man, she’ll be toast. Even SHE couldn’t survive that."
        "Just do it, will you?"
        "Sure, sure."
        Anton crouched down and reached out w/ the tip of the sword while Garryk held his jacket between him and the casket, trying to screen off some of the heat. His wrist began to burn. Anton gritted his teeth and prodded at the catch : it was a simple snap-catch, but the damned thing wouldn’t move. "Sht! I can’t get it. Heat must’ve welded it or warped it or something."
        "Hit it harder then."
        "I’m burning here!"
        "So am I! Just do it!"
        "Move aside."
        "Holy sht!" Garryk jumped at the deep voice and dropped the smoking jacket over Anton, who yowled. Garryk drew his knife from his calf scabbard, the only weapon he had on him, and realised what a dismal weapon it was against the tattooed giant w/ the battle axe. "Who the fk are you?"
        Anton threw the jacket off him : it landed in the lava and was incinerated instantly w/ a loud flump! He had his sword ready in an instant despite his sore skin and blinked in wonder as he saw the transvection rift close behind the trio of strangers. He focused on Lady Death and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Whoah!!"
        The rearmost figure pushed its way forward. "Garryk. It’s alright, these are friends." Lexus was pale, her voice quavering.
        "Lexus!" Garryk cried, lowering the knife. "Damn girl, I haven’t seen you - "
        "Get out the way," she interrupted.
        Cremator went over to the sarcophagus and gripped the metal. Anton sucked in his breath w/ a wince at the sizzling sound and then gazed in facination as Cremator didn’t even react. The catches twisted and stretched slightly in his grip, like soft toffee, then freed w/ a snap. Cremator opened the coffin lid and looked inside, a blast of hot air rippling his hood. The others gathered around, cautious of the heat but feeling a dreadful inquisitiveness to see what was inside. Lexus gave a long low moan and swayed drunkenly. Lady Death grabbed her around the shoulders and held her, and for that moment all animosity between them was forgotten. Sweet mother of mercy, Lady Death thought in horror. What must it have been like?
        Purgatori was little more than a charcoal sculpture : she looked as if someone had crumpled aluminium foil tightly around a skeleton and painted it black. Her hair and wing membranes were gone, and the intense heat had contorted her limbs and shrunk the cartilage in her joints, drawing his into a foetal position. Acrid smoke drifted up from the carbonised remains.
        "Sweet Isis," Garryk breathed. He was devasted. He had fought alongside Purgatori once when she had turned up w/ a group of Blood Warriors in time to save his hide when he had been jumped by a group of bandits when he had been out trapping. She was gorgeous and sexy, a fearsome fighter. He supposed he lusted after her a bit, but that was overshadowed by the respect he had for her. He had given her her first toucan as a present. Now she was dead. Someone had actually managed to kill her. After all this time, after all the battles she had fought in, someone had finally managed to finish her off. Gods, Purgatori. It shouldn’t have ended like this.
        "Get her out if you can, Cremator," Lady Death said quietly, still holding Lexus. What’s the matter w/ me? My most hated enemy is lying before me, cooked alive having suffered the most indescribable agony, and I’m not enjoying it. What’s wrong? Is it because I wish I had done that to her? DO I wish that? Lady Death looked at the smoking body, at a complete loss to define her feelings. Had she made some sort of tenuous connection w/ the vampiress when they had been locked up, simply because they were sharing a horrendous experience? She had seen Purgatori strike Vulnavia, and although she kept trying to tell herself that Purgatori had only done it to take advantage of an opportunity to escape, some mischievious little part of her mind kept trying to tell her that Purgatori was trying to protect her. Well, Lady Death thought grumpily, if she WAS it was only because she needed me healthy to help her escape.
        "Are you kidding me?" Anton said in dismay as Cremator lifted the body and placed it gently on the ground away from the coffin. "Leave her be, for fk's sake! Just bury her and leave her be!"
        "She’s not dead," Lexus said thickly.
        "Huh?" The words sank in and Anton looked down at Purgatori w/ utter horror on his face, his stomach roiling. "Fk, you can’t be serious…"
        "There is sorcery enveloping her heart and brain," Lexus said. She seemed to be having trouble forming her words. "I-it will not let her d-die, or p-pa-pass o-out."
        "You mean she’s awake?!" Anton took a horrified step back, as though the condition might be catching.
        Cremator looked up at Lady Death. "What are we to do w/ her? What can we do?"
        "Take her home. That’s all we can do," Lady Death said simply. "Given time - if we have it - she might heal." She turned to Lexus, who by now was almost as white as Lady Death herself. "Are you alright? Can you still work your magick?"
        "Y-yes," Lexus said. She swallowed and shook her head slightly. "Yes," she repeated in a stronger tone, though tears were now flowing.
        "Lexus - "
        "Garryk please, we must go. I will return and explain. You are fighting these invaders?"
        "Of course."
        "Thank you. Please, continue. W-while she l-l-lives, there is s-still ho-hope." Her voice cracked on the last word.
        "Sure," Garryk said numbly. "Look after her Lexus. Come back when you can. We will fight for her till death."
        All Lexus could do was nod as tears of gratitude flowed down her face. She bit her fingers and they vanished through the portal w/ the charred remains of their Empress.
        "Good goddamn," Anton said finally.
        "Portals, magick coffins," Garryk said wonderingly. "Purgatori beaten. I can’t believe it."
        "I can’t believe the cleavage on that white one."
        Garryk shook his head. "That’s right Anton. Concentrate on the important things."
        "Hey…"
        Garryk pondered the events for a while. "Come on; we’d better tell the elders." He turned away, scanning the ground. "Hey, dickwad : where’s my jacket?" --- o O o ---         "You make me sick!"
        "I heard you the first dozen times, Vandala," Lady Death said brusquely.
        "Then hear it again!" Vandala said, trotting to keep up w/ Lady Death’s rapid stride as she walked through WinterHaven. "This is the slut who destroyed our home and enslaved our sister -"
        "I KNOW!!" Lady Death stopped and spun, and for a moment it seemed as though she was on the verge of cementing in place the last brick in the wall that had grown between them. "You think I am doing this because I want to? At this moment in time, we face a dangerous enemy and we need each other - "
        "Do we?" Vandala said shortly. "We have beaten many others w/out her help; Genocide."
        "Genocide’s forces were beaten w/ the help of the Asgardian troops and the other Valkyries. Both are gone!"
        "Thanks to the slut you now protect! We beat Lucifer! And Armageddon himself!"
        "We did NOT beat Armageddon, Vanadala, Oblivia did! If you are going to try and argue w/ me at least try and bring up sensible points."
        "You bitch! How can you stand to have her in our home?"
        "My home."
        "I see," Vandala snapped, tears of hurt and anger brimming in her eyes. "It seems you would prefer to side w/ her than us. We who have risked our lives for you, you treat like garbage! She, who has destroyed everything and hurt us the most, you protect and nurse!"
        "Don’t be foolish. If we face this w/out her our task will be almost insurmountable. If we have to fight her in addition, we will probably be finished : for now, we need to fight w/ her."
        "Really! Or maybe that’s just an excuse to protect your new playmate!"
        Lady Death’s hand flashed out, and somehow - right at the very last moment - she managed to catch herself and turn the punch into a shove. "How DARE you! You think I have forgotten about my friends? My mother?"
        "You act like it!"
        "Take a look around you!"
        "W-what?"
        "What size army do you see me commanding, that might aid us against Drakkan?"
        Vandala glared sullenly, her eyes still wet and shiny.
        "Well?"
        "None!" Vandala shrieked back. "I don’t care! I hate her! I will kill her the first chance I get Hope I swear it!"
        Vandala quailed as Lady Death walked up to her slowly and stood an inch away, her eyes blazing. "Listen to me, sister, and listen carefully," she said in a chilling tone. "My world, my life is under threat and much as I hate it Purgatori is possibly our only ally. I will NOT allow you to threaten ME by hurting her."
        Vandala turned away angrily but Lady Death grabbed her and spun her around. Her grip tightened as the blonde struggled to get free.
        "Listen to me! For the moment, we need her. The instant it appears that we do not - or she turns against us - you are more than welcome to kill her."
        "Fine idea!" Vandala cried. "She…she’ll be fully healed then!"
        "So?" Lady Death said, a sneering tone in her voice. "I thought you were the proud and fearless Valkyrie warrior! Can you only fight cri-cripples?"
        Vandala caught the twitch, the waver in Lady Death’s voice and although she didn’t know what it meant it curbed her flare of fury. "Yes. Insult me if you wish. I am the only true survivor of Asgard and your only surviving sister, but you have made it abundantly clear how much that means to you. Let go of me. I have no wish to stay here any longer."
        "Oh Vandala," Lady Death said softly. "Don’t be petulant. Why can’t you understand? All worlds are threatened by Drakkan. All worlds. I am supposed to be the Queen of all that is dead and dying, not you - why then would you be willing to let all those worlds die just to exact revenge?"
        Vandala relaxed slowly. Once again, here was a fleeting glimpse of the girl Hope could be if she would just drop the attitude and the belief that she was better than every other creature in the cosmos. "Hope…I HATE Purgatori. Everything I grew up w/, everyone I loved…they’re all dead, all destroyed, and she is to blame for a great deal of it. Why can you not understand that? You knew a home for but a fleeting time, but I had hoped it would have made an impression on you."
        At another time, such an inference would have provoked rage and quite possibly some severe physical retribution, but for now the gentler version of Hope held her ground and the grip on Vandala’s shoulder became a gentle rub. "You have no idea what it meant to me - it was because I hated what she had done that I killed Purgatori on Earth. Thought I had killed her. After what Purgatori did to my mother, believe me when I say I have more than enough reason to hate her and wish her head was on my mantelpiece, but for now it is unfortunate that we need her. She can travel between worlds. W/out her we cannot save those other worlds. I know not why this creature fights Purgatori, but we should thank the gods that he does, for otherwise she might have struck an alliance w/ him and then we would truly be in a dire predicament."
        Vandala was silent. Everything Lady Death said was true and sensible, but having Purgatori in the castle was like knowing there was a huge venomous spider hiding somewhere in the house.
        "I promise you Vandala, I despise this union as much as you - maybe more. I have had a longer history w/ Purgatori than you. When we are victorious, if you wish we will fight her together and you can avenge all who died in Asgard."
        "Yes…and maybe we can force her to free Vulnavia." Vandala flinched as Lady Death jerked away. "What’s wrong?"
        "Never mind," Lady Death growled. "I’m tired. I need to bathe. Will you walk w/ me?"
        Vandala hesitated. "Bathe again? But you are - "
        "Clean?" Lady Death’s attempt at a smile was more like a grimace. "I feel I’ll never be clean again."
        "Oh Hope, what did they - no, I’m sorry, I should not ask."
        "No, you should not…come." They walked up the corridor together, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.
        "Hope?"
        "Yes?"
        "How do you know she won’t betray us? When it’s all over?"
        For a long while Vandala didn’t think she would get an answer. "I…don’t. But she told me she was acting on orders from her Goddess. Her Goddess obviously wanted us alive to help her, so perhaps the answer will lie w/ what her Goddess says after Drakkan is defeated."
        "Hmm. From what I know of Purgatori, I find it strange to consider her taking orders. She always seemed the dominant one…"
        "Yes," Lady Death agreed wryly. "That scarlet bitch is full of surprises. Most of them unpleasant. I, too, never considered that she might worship a deity of her own."
        "After all that happened between you, you believe Purgatori would put that aside if her Goddess said so?"
        "Yes," Lady Death said simply. "If she could bear to come here to try and forge an alliance w/ us, I believe she would leave us be if her Goddess said so."
        They reached the main bathing pool and Vandala reached for the door. "So if we win, and she’s happy to walk away, would you still help me take her head?" Vandala pushed the door open and Lady Death was saved from having to answer that one.
        "Who in the name of the Fallen are you?!"
        The woman crouching by the bathing pool stood up gracefully, showing not the least bit of concern, and turned to a row of glass jars that were lined up on a window sill. "Do not be afraid."
        " ‘Afraid’!" Lady Death snarled, drawing her sword. "You mistake my fury, bitch!"
        The woman’s blue eyes flashed. "There is no need for unpleasantness, Hope. Don’t be disrespectful."
        Lady Death was taken aback by the mention of her name but recovered quickly. "This is my castle bitch! You come here uninvited and unannounced and expect a glowing welcome? Tell me your name, so I will at least know whose head will adorn my gates!"
        "My name is Isis, Hope, and if you don’t stop being childish I will have to punish you."
        Lady Death exploded. "You arrogant wench! You are the one who will be punished! I will teach you the error of breaking in and trespassing, and I will teach you a lesson in courtesy and manners before you beg me to put you out of your misery!"
        "I have not the time for this," Isis said cooly, her eyes flashing like sapphires in the sun. "But, if it will make you happy…" She stepped closer and executed a graceful curtsey. "Please forgive my impudence and my trespassing, Hope, but my concern for my daughter far outweighed any protocols of politeness."
        "Hah! If you think that will… ‘daughter’?!"
        "Yes."
        Lady Death and Vandala looked at the pool and saw that the water had turned a soft violet colour. Purgatori’s charred remains floated in it, completely submerged.
        "You mean you spawned that repulsive monstrosity?" Vandala gasped.
        "Yes," Isis said acidly. "Rather her than you."
        Lady Death stepped between them to cut things off, lowering her sword. "What are you doing to her?" she asked brusquely, annoyed that her moment for righteous indignation and the opportunity to teach this wench some manners had somehow evaporated.
        "I am healing her. The magick that Drakkan enveloped her in has soaked into her. It needs to be removed before she can begin to heal. This liquid will negate the sorcery."
        "Then she will heal?"
        Isis’s composure slipped fractionally. "Of course. Given time. She will need blood. Powerful blood, preferably."
        Lady Death’s eyes narrowed. "I feel I have had this conversation before."
        "How did you get in here?" Vandala asked.
        "Magick. Please, I must attend her and cast a few more spells."
        Lady Death sheathed her sword. "Do what you must. We will talk afterwards."
        "Please send Lexus here when she returns. I sent her out for some medicinal herbs."
        "Does everyone wander in and out of my castle w/out so much as a by-your-leave?!" Lady Death exploded.
        "It was an urgent requirement."
        "Hmph!"
        Lady Death stalked out, leaving Vandala and Isis regarding each other. Vandala’s eyes shifted to Purgatori and Isis’ narrowed. "Try it."
        Vandala fingered the hilt of her sword, eyeing up Isis. This woman looked weak and soft, more a beauty queen than a warrior, but there was something about her that made Vandala hesitate. "I will not harm her," she said haughtily. "We just rescued her, did we not?"
        Isis smiled. "Yes." She wasn’t fooled at all.
        Vandala held her gaze for a moment then turned and strode out. Isis watched her go then gestured minutely and the door closed gently as she knelt down by the pool.

       Burn witch! Burn!
        Lady Death tensed slightly and shifted her position in her chair. It was night - or, rather, very early morning. The moon was up, shining down from a cloud-free sky, and the wind was nothing more than a restless whisper. WinterHaven was silent : everyone was asleep save for her. She had tossed and turned for hours before getting up to come and watch the source of her unease : Purgatori.
        It had been twelve days since Isis had appeared. For two of them, Purgatori had floated in the pool, suspended in the magical violet water, letting the sorcery seep into her and eradicate the Chaotic magic that was keeping her from healing. When they had lifted her out there was no trace of the faint yellow glow on her body, but now a new fear had held Isis : as well as torturing Purgatori, the magic had been keeping her alive - w/ it removed, it was possible that Purgatori would die, that her ravaged body would not have the strength to carry on. Lexus had slit her wrists on an hourly basis and had fed her diligently. Despite everything she had said, Lady Death still could not bring herself to shed blood for Purgatori, and Isis said that her own blood was so powerful that it would be too much for Purgatori in her weakened state. W/ no-one else willing to feed her, it had been left to Lexus, who had finally given up and collapsed midway into the second feeding day. The blood seemed to have done the trick. Isis had taken Purgatori into one of WinterHaven’s unused guest rooms and had laid her out on the bed. She had carefully and gently wrapped her body like a mummy, binding it w/ cloth that had been soaked in more magickal potions and inscribed w/ arcane hieroglyphs. Purgatori’s body had gradually filled out and flesh and muscle rebuilt itself…and w/ the healing came awareness again. As her vocal cords repaired, the castle rang w/ the sounds of her almost constant screaming, until Isis had returned and cast a mute spell on her. She still screamed, but no sound came.
       Witch! Burn her!
        Burning. Screaming as the body is consumed by raging fire. Yes, Lady Death knew all about that. After all, hadn’t that been the origin of all she was? She looked at Purgatori and could see herself, a small child writhing on a stake, rough rope chafing her bloody wrists as hungry yellow flames danced around her. Choking acrid smoke. Heat. Scalding skin, stinging eyes. Screaming. She had escaped by reciting an incantation spell after maybe two minutes. As far as anyone could tell, Purgatori had been in that coffin for almost a month.
        A month.
        Lady Death felt her skin crawl, and was angry at herself. If there was one thing she couldn’t abide, it was indecision. For over half a decade, Purgatori had been a hated enemy, an irritation and a danger. She had imprisoned Marion’s soul, messed w/ Lady Death’s mind, tried to usurp her position in Hell. Ravaged Asgard, sided w/ Armageddon - albeit for her own purposes. She loathed and detested the vampiress. So why now did she find she also felt a twinge of compassion? Why wasn’t she sitting here drinking in every detail of Purgatori’s agony to savour for the rest of her life? Why wasn’t she cheerfully rubbing salt into her raw skin?
        Purgatori lay naked on the bed, her bandages removed. No sheets covered her, because even that slight pressure had distressed her. Most of her wing membranes had regrown, but her hair was still little more than stubble. Her body had almost completely filled out, but like any normal burn injury, her skin was covered w/ thick crusty scabs. Some of them had cracked during her writhings and the fissures they produced were raw and wet, weeping slightly. Lady Death wished she could revel in this torment. Back on Earth, it was exactly the fate she would have liked to administer herself. In one of her idler moments, before the Judgement War had spiralled way out of control, she had decided that she would like to torture Purgatori and entomb her in a block of arcane glass, to be kept helpless and aware, in constant pain and humiliation, to live out eternity as an ornament for Lady Death’s castle. She had even asked Brock some idle questions about the magicks needed for such a venture.
       Lucifer, she decided, watching Purgatori twitch and kick. It was when Lucifer captured me at Mount Weather. Yes : the more she considered it the more it seemed true. Up to that point she had pretty much been the dominant one, the torturer - even Matthias, though abusive hadn’t really physically tortured her, not the way Drakkan had. Everything had changed at Mount Weather, though. She didn’t think it had at first, but now she realised that it gave you a whole new perspective when you were a victim. It stopped being amusing right then. Like fighting - you didn’t care much about hacking bits off people until you experienced a sword through the guts yourself - right then you realised exactly what you were doing. True, there were people in the cosmos who probably deserved the sort of treatment the Purgatori had got, and indeed the vampiress would have been right at the top of that list, but in all honesty, Lady Death wondered, if everything had been different - if there was no Drakkan to worry about and she had captured Purgatori alive herself - would she have kept her and tortured her and entombed her in glass as she had once fantasized? Lady Death pondered that one for long minutes. No, she finally decided. I might beat her to a pulp, or whip the skin off her, but I would kill her, take her skull for my dressing table.
       Mother would be pleased. It seems I have taken a step away from my darker nature. She stood up and walked across the room to stand over the vampiress. How sad my mother was, when I embraced the dark nature w/in me. I am, after all, part angelic. She hoped I would be a proud, fierce warrior…more like Vandala, I suppose. How much have I disappointed her? Let her down? How far have I gone in the wrong direction? I needed to be brutal and feared in Hell, but perhaps I enjoyed it TOO much.
        Purgatori, tortured. No enjoyment. It still bothered her. That wasn’t to say that if they fought a personal battle and she vanquished her again, chopping her into quivering chunks and killing her slowly and in great pain, that she wouldn’t enjoy it, she reassured herself. It just seemed that killing in battle and gratuitous torture were now completely unrelated. Killing to be victorious and revelling in the death of a hated foe still seemed noble; inflicting pain for fun now seemed vaguely sickening. Perhaps, she thought ruefully, Lucifer had even done her a favour - insofar as changing her into something her mother would appreciate.
        "Can you not sleep?"
        Lady Death jumped at the soft voice, reaching instinctively for a sword that was not there : she was wearing only a very revealing negligee, something she thought Purgatori would have found extremely appetising, had she been in any fit state to see it.
        "I don’t like people creeping up on me," she said tightly.
        "I apologise," Isis said. Her eyes slid over to Purgatori and Lady Death saw the expression change to one she found painfully familiar. It was full of the deepest love, full of heartbreaking concern and pain for what her child was going through; it was the look she had seen on Marion’s face countless times when she had cradled a well-thrashed Hope, the desperate wish to remove the pain, the pure willingness to absorb the pain herself if it meant her daughter would not suffer. Lady Death felt touched and somewhat surprised by it, amazed that even a horribly evil creature like Purgatori had a mother who loved her. And then, momentarily, her black nature surged up and she bitterly wanted to pay the vampiress back for what she had done to Marion. She had a fervent wish to be there when Purgatori woke up one day, fully refreshed and healed, and rolled over to see Isis’s severed head on the bedside table. She pushed that away, but it took some effort. No. I won’t stoop to her level. It would give exquisite satisfaction, but I won’t. I have no truck w/ Isis - yet - and I will not sully myself by killing her out of spite. Isis walked over and stood close to her, and Lady Death felt that calm and soothing aura. She saw the look on Isis’s face, that look of absolute pain and pity for her daughter, and Lady Death had to look away. It was too familiar, too touching,.
        "Your daughter," she said, for want of anything else to say.
        "Yes. But she does not know." Isis turned and looked at Lady Death intensely. "And I would thank you not to tell her."
        "But why?"
        "She…is not ready to know."
        "Hmm. It seems to me that if she knew about you she would have been a more likeable creature. I cannot imagine a girl would have turned so bad, had she known a mother such as you watched over her." Lady Death saw Isis’s face harden and was stunned to see a tear slip down each cheek. "What’s wrong?"
        "Never mind. It is too long a story to relate now." She wiped her tears off on a forefinger and touched it gently to Purgatori’s cheek. Purgatori sighed gently as the liquid slipped into her skin. "My poor baby," Isis breathed.
        "Will she recover?" Lady Death asked.
        "Yes. Physically, anyway. Mentally…I do not know. Her suffering might have permanently…unbalanced her."
        "She is already unbalanced."
        Isis turned sharply and it took all Lady Death’s efforts not to step back from that gaze. "I understand your dislike of my daughter, but I do not appreciate hearing comments like that."
        "It was hardly an exaggeration."
        "She is what she is. She is what we shaped her to be. Perhaps your hatred would be better directed towards me."
        "What? I don’t understand."
        "I shaped and directed her life. That is all you need know for now."
        Lady Death glanced between the two women. "You made her torture my mother?"
        "She did NOT torture your mother, nor harm her in any way."
        Lady Death stalled a bit at that, then recovered. "You directed her to destroy Asgard? Kill my family?" she asked in a dangerous tone. "Perhaps I should kill you."
        Isis’s eyes sparked. "I dislike being threatened, girl. Especially by one who is incapable of fulfilling her threats."
        "Hah! You doubt I could kill you?"
        "No. I do not ‘doubt’, I know it for a fact girl," Isis said calmly. Her sapphire eyes held Lady Death’s in an unblinking stare.
        "Well," Lady Death said finally. "Perhaps one day we will get to test your conviction." Even to her it sounded lame.
        "Perhaps," Isis agreed placidly. "Please Hope; I do not wish to fight w/ you. Horus knows I have enough reason to after what you did to my sister, but we have a larger issue to consider, and she is more than capable of settling her own disputes."
        Lady Death blinked. "Sister? Who?"
        "I have to go now, please - "
        "I asked you a question!"
        "Don’t take that tone w/ me child, I -"
        "I am not a child! I am Lady Death! I have bested others of your breed and don’t you forget it!"
        Isis regarded her calmly. "You are over four hundred years old. I am over twenty billion years old. You are a child to me. And while you continue to act like one, I will continue to treat you as such."
        "Really? Maybe I should knock some respect into you. I think I am more than capable."
        "Maybe I should spank some respect into you. I know I am more than capable."
        Lady Death took a step towards her, every muscle quivering. "Then why don’t you try?" she invited w/ a steely grin. "Let’s settle this right now."
        Isis sighed. "Hope, please. I have told you I have no wish to fight w/ you."
        "Hah! Coward!"
        "What is going on?"
        The two women turned to see Lexus standing in the doorway, looking pale and annoyed.
        "We are just about to settle an argument," Lady Death said tightly.
        "Sure," Lexus said tiredly. "Go ahead. Give Drakkan something to laugh himself silly over as he conquers your world."
        Lady Death glowered at her.
        Lexus looked at Isis. "After all you told me, you’re going to ruin everything over a stupid spat? And you : isn’t there anyone in the universe you wouldn’t pick a fight w/?"
        "You are right child," Isis said softly. "I apologise." She looked at Lady Death, her eyes soft and beautiful, no hint of that hard anger. "I did not mean to offend you Hope. But I do expect a modicum of respect when people address me. Especially a person whose life I have saved."
        Lady Death blinked in confusion. You have healed well. It seems almost a miracle. For three days you were at death’s door and then yesterday when we came to see you in the morning you were so much better we could not believe it. I suppose your powers must have returned to heal you…Evidently it had not. It all made sense now : they had all witnessed how powerful Isis’s healing powers were. She must have turned up and helped cure Lady Death while she was recovering. Gradually Lady Death’s muscles unclenched. "…Perhaps my sister is right : I am too hot-headed. But I too expect respect, and I will not tolerate being patronised."
        "Then perhaps will can both agree to be more courteous when we meet again," Isis said easily. She inclined her head slightly. "I must leave now. Goodnight, Hope."
        "...goodnight…"
        "Lexus, would you walk w/ me, child?"
        "Of course, my lady."
        They stepped out into the corridor and Isis took Lexus’s hand as they walked to the main hall. "You are trembling."
        "I…am angry, my lady. That argument was stupid," Lexus said. "Please forgive me - "
        "No, you are right," Isis sighed. "My feelings got the better of me. Much as we need Lady Death, I do not like her, especially after what she did to my sister. She is an arrogant cur. If you hadn’t turned up when you did, I would have tanned her backside until she was the same colour as my daughter."
        "That I would like to see," Lexus smiled briefly. "But it would be easier to kiss up to her, while Purgatori is ill. Knowing her, if you humiliated her she would kill Purgatori when you were gone, just to offend you."
        "You are right. Fear not, Lexus, I will not allow this nonsense to happen again." They stopped in the hall, lit in dim orange by the dying fire. "I must go now and tend my sister."
        "Is she well?"
        "Fully healed, yes, but still in deep depression. I fear she may not allow herself to come out of it. Sometimes I almost wish she would not - her temper is truly terrifying, and I shudder to think what might happen should she discover Lady Death is alive…or that we are aligning ourselves w/ her, for whatever reason."
        "She bears grudges, I take it."
        "And how. Are you well enough to continue feeding Sakkara?"
        "I will continue."
        Isis smiled and embraced her tenderly. "That was not a ‘yes’."
        "No. It doesn’t matter how I feel."
        "You sweet child," Isis said, kissing her cheek. "I will see you adequately rewarded for your service."
        "Purgatori’s recovery will be enough. I need to rest now…"
        "Yes, and I must go. I am sorry we woke you."
        "I’m glad you did - I hate to think what you two would have done if I hadn’t."
        They embraced and parted, and Lexus climbed the stairs tiredly. When she looked in on Purgatori, Lady Death was still there, looking down at the vampiress. She raised her head to look at Lexus, perhaps inspecting her face for any tiny hint of contempt or amusement.
        "That Isis," she said, and Lexus tensed, "reminds me of my mother. Apart from her arrogance."
        Lexus relaxed. "If you had a mother like her, you must have been very fortunate," she said diplomatically, tactfully not pursuing the insult.
        "Yes," Lady Death said distantly. "Purgatori seems to be healing well."
        "She is remarkable. The benefits of being a vampire I suppose." Lady Death just grunted. "You don’t like each other much, do you?"
        Lady Death looked up sharply. "Are you trying to be amusing?"
        "No. I know nothing of your history. She never mentioned you."
        Lady Death pondered this, startled - and somewhat offended - to discover that after all they had been through Purgatori hadn’t considered her worthy of mention. "Never?"
        "Never." Lexus gazed at Purgatori, feeling the lump rise in her throat as it always did when she saw the state of her lover. Her gorgeous skin, ravaged and ruined, her beautiful hair, gone. But she’s getting better, Lexus told herself. Just keep remembering that. She’s getting better.
        Lady Death watched Lexus, seeing pure adoration on her face. So this wasn’t just some idle bedfellow of Purgatori’s after all : they were lovers. It suddenly occurred to Lady Death that for all the ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ insults she had thrown around, this was the first time she had been aware that Purgatori had a sexual partner. Maybe she had been like herself; lonely due to her being a uniquely different creature, or for fear of having her power or position stolen. Maybe she had yet another thing in common w/ the vampiress. Strange. Annoying.
        "This hatred," Lexus said w/ studied casualness. "Does it mean you will try and kill her as soon as this alliance is over?"
        "What do you think?"
        Lexus glanced over but didn’t reply.
        "I will see you in the morning," Lady Death said. She stopped at the door. "How long have you been her lover?"
       Why? Jealous? Lexus almost said, and bit it back just in time. "Over thirty years."
        Lady Death digested this.
        Lexus seemed to read her thoughts. "Yes, thirty years. Despite your insults, she is very loyal." She knelt down by the bed and oh-so-gently stroked a minute section of scab-free skin. "All she’s ever wanted was someone to love her," she said quietly, more to herself than Lady Death.
       Sounds like a boy I once knew, Lady Death thought as she walked to her bedroom. And a young girl whose boyfriend betrayed her to side w/ her demonic father. The more I find out about Purgatori, the more I see a reflection of myself. How hateful.

        "How goes the work in New Necropolis? Is the Gate nearly repaired?"
        Isis looked over at Lady Death briefly. "I would estimate he has maybe two weeks work left to do, three at the outside." She had pulled a chair over to the bed and was sitting beside Purgatori, holding one of her hands. Purgatori had almost fully healed now. Her body had resumed its normal figure, her hair was fully restored and her skin was healing well : the scabs were peeling off her in sheets, leaving smooth fresh red flesh beneath. But still Purgatori had not responded to any stimulation. She lay on her back, wings spread to fill the large bed, covered w/ a duck down quilt.
        "How long in this world? About a fifth of that?"
        "Give or take," Isis said. She let go of Purgatori’s hand and straightened up. Lady Death heard her back creak. She stood up and stretched gracefully and when she turned around Lady Death saw black smudges around her eyes.
        "Still no response?"
        "No," Isis said sadly. "Sometimes when I’m talking to her I fancy I see her twitch, as though she is trying to respond but cannot, but I fear I may be just imagining it."
        "Our time is running out. If she does not recover…"
        "If she does not recover, you die," Isis said calmly. "I know Drakkan - he does not take kindly to being thwarted. Once he repairs the Gate he will send ALL his forces here to punish you for escaping. They will leave this world a charred husk."
        "How do you know him?"
        "We…are long-standing enemies. I killed his wife and son."
        "You killed his family?"
        "They were warriors, Hope. They were attacking our palace. I did not seek out and destroy soft targets, if that was what you were implying."
        "I wasn’t implying anything - it’s the way you said it. Any how : I do not fear him. I have faced many armies before on my own - "
        "Not like this, Hope. He has taken control of Purgatori’s Blood Warriors. They are fearsome fighters, enhanced and protected by her powerful sorcery, and they are just part of his forces. He has over one million Doom Magistrates at his disposal, and fierce feline warriors, the Akerians."
        Lady Death was silent as she envisioned that. Finally she said, "Then we must prepare as best we can. We will go to New Necropolis by ourselves and prepare WinterHaven to repel assault as best we can."
        Isis smiled kindly. "We can try, though I fear anything we could do would be somewhat futile."
        "You may be a defeatist," Lady Death snorted, "but I fight to the last."
        "I am a realist. I don’t believe in wasting effort. Still, if you wish to prepare a fortified retreat…" She walked past Lady Death and looked out the window. "The crevasse is useful - it will prevent infantry attack. If you can blockade or destroy the mountain path you can isolate the castle well, but that will not stop an artillery attack."
        Lady Death looked around at the sound of footsteps outside the door. "Cremator! Come here!"
        Purgatori twitched.
        Cremator came in. "Yes milady?"
        "We need to prepare the castle to w/stand a siege."
        Cremator nodded. "The castle has good defences milady. The structure is sound and its location itself is strategically beneficial. We could use some potent magickal shielding, such as you cast around Oblivion, if you are still able t-"
        Purgatori landed squarely on his back, wrapping her legs around him, her long nails raking at his face. He grunted in surprise and reacted instinctively, driving his elbow into her exposed gut and hurling her away as her awkward grip faltered. She flew across the room and crashed into the dressing table. The long mirror exploded and Purgatori cried out as she slammed into the heavy antique wood, splintering it. Various bottles of potions and perfumes scattered every which way and shattered on the floor, instantly filling the room w/ a mixture of conflicting smells. Lady Death stepped forward w/ a curse as Purgatori rebounded and fell to the floor w/ little segments of her peeling scabs fluttering around her like tickertape, blue Arcane Energy glowing from her fists. Purgatori scrambled into a crouched position, fangs bared and talons extended. Strings of hair hung across her shining eyes, ropes of saliva dripped from her fangs, and triangles of glinting glass punctuated her nude body. She grimaced and winced as her movement caused her scabs to pull and tear, weep and bleed. She looked completely feral. Her eyes were locked on Cremator.
        Isis pulled Lady Death aside and stepped between Purgatori and Cremator. "Sakkara," she said in a scared tone. "Please child…"
        Purgatori looked at her, a constant growl ripping from her throat. No hint of recognition flickered in her eyes. She reached down and pulled an eight-inch glass dagger from her thigh. She hefted it, heedless of the blood that trickled from her fingers, and locked her eyes on Cremator again.
        "Shh." Isis gestured and Purgatori was knocked flat, motionless. Isis was panting hard, her eyes wide. She saw Lady Death and Cremator looking at her in surprise and composed herself. "What? Did you think I was going to try and negotiate w/ her in that state?"
        "What did you do?" Lady Death asked.
        "She’s just asleep, unhurt."
        Cremator blew out a gasp of relief, fingering the bleeding slashes that furrowed his cheeks. "Milady, I - "
        "Get out of here," Isis said.
        Cremator bristled. "I take orders from - "
        "She’s right Cremator," Lady Death said. "Your presence, your voice maybe, will just set Purgatori off again. Go and ask Vandala to check your wounds."
        Cremator subsided, bowed to Lady Death and left quickly w/ one last reproachful look at Isis.
        Isis bent down and gently removed the glass from Purgatori’s fingers. "Oh my poor baby." She slid her arms under the naked vampiress and Lady Death watched her lift Purgatori effortlessly and carry her over to the bed. For such a delicate looking woman, she certainly had strength somewhere.
        "Will she be all right?"
        "Of course : I would never hurt her."
        "That’s not what I meant."
        "Oh. I cannot tell. Would you please fetch Lexus? I think it might be preferable if you do not return until we can determine how she is when she awakes."
        "I think we should chain her up."
        "Absolutely not."
        "Listen, Isis. You might not be here when she awakes. If I am, I will not be as gentle restraining her." Isis looked up sharply. "That was not a threat."
        "I…please, only as a last resort."
        Lady Death shook her head and left. Lexus rushed in moments later.
        "What happened?" she asked frantically.
        "Apparently she does not like Cremator for some reason," Isis said. "Listen child : I am going to have to bring her around now. I wanted to leave her to sleep a while, but I cannot risk her waking when I am not here. I need you to be ready in case she…in case she’s…"
        "Yes. What do I do?"
        Isis swallowed. "If I cannot subdue her first, anything you have to."
        "A-alright."
        Isis closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. She opened her eyes and whispered a word to Purgatori. Her eyes fluttered and opened. They looked blank, vacant, dead.
        "Sakkara," Isis whispered.
        Purgatori’s eyes shifted, focused. Brightened. "G-goddess."
        Isis choked out some strangled sound that was half cry of delight and half sob of relief an threw her arms around her daughter.
        "What…where am I?"
        Isis pulled away, trying to hide her concern : Sakkara had not hugged her back. "You are safe for the moment."
        "Where?" Cold.
        "Lady Death’s castle."
        That low ripping growl again, like an angry tiger.
        "Purgatori."
        Her eyes shifted at the tear-choked voice. "Lexus."
        Lexus pushed past Isis and clamped her lips to Purgatori’s. Isis watched them tensely, but this time - hesitantly - Purgatori’s arms encircled the girl.
        "How are you?" Lexus asked between kisses. "Do you want blood?"
        "Yes."
        Lexus opened a vein for Purgatori, unknowingly sharing Isis’s worry. The hug had been the polite hug of vague acquaintances, not the passionate embrace of reunited lovers. Don’t be silly. She’s just spent a month being cooked alive. Give her time.
        Purgatori took a couple of pints and stopped, licking her lips. She looked at Isis. "I failed you," she said dully.
        "No!" Isis said intensely. "Maybe temporarily, but you have succeeded now - Lady Death has agreed to fight w/ us." She glanced warily at the door before continuing. "Sakkara…I cannot sense your power…?"
        "Gone. To prevent him getting it." She saw Isis’s stunned expression and smiled thinly. "No, it is safe. I can recover it."
        "Where is it?" Isis frowned.
        "Safe."
       She doesn’t trust me, Isis thought sadly. Have I lost her? "I think it would be prudent to keep that fact from Lady Death. I do not trust her completely, and if she finds you are powerless she - "
        "Where is Cremator?" Deadly, icy tone.
        Isis stopped. How different this Purgatori was from the one she had met in the cave. "Out of your way. Listen to me Sakkara, we do not have time for you to pursue that vengeance now." Purgatori just looked at her blankly. "Do you hear me, my child?"
        "Y…yes, my Goddess."
        Isis heaved a huge mental sigh of relief. That old Sakkara was still in there somewhere. "Sakkara, time runs out fast. We need to get you to New Necropolis as soon as possible. Exactly how do you feel?"
        "Fine." Dully.
        "You seem fine physically, but how are you - "
        "Drakkan said my mother could have saved me but didn’t. Is that true?"
        "Oh my child. Do you believe it to be true?" A tear welled up when Purgatori remained silent. "Sakkara, it is as I told you before. The only way you might have been saved would be if your mother surrendered to Drakkan. And even then, do you really believe he would have honoured his deal and released you?" Still she remained silent. "Sakkara, I know how you - "
        "You do not know how I feel!" Purgatori flared. "For forty centuries I have been alone w/ no information, or contact w/ my parents, then all of a sudden I get a few tantalising hints, and then I’m being told that I am to be burnt alive for all eternity because of them! Do not tell me you know how I feel!"
        Isis lowered her head and her tears fell onto the bed beside Purgatori. A hand touched her elbow and she blinked her tears away to see Purgatori’s white eyes, looking stricken.
        "M-my Goddess! I’m sorry! I meant no disrespect!"
        Isis flung her arms around her, and this time Purgatori hugged her back, a more genuine version than Lexus had got. "Sakkara," she said huskily. "You must believe me : your mother loves you above all things, above life itself. She would have gladly taken your place if possible, if it would have made any difference."
        "I…I wish she would tell me herself…"
        Isis hugged her tighter and actually had her mouth open to speak before she thought better of it. She kissed her daughter instead and they sat together, Purgatori once more nuzzled into her throat.

        Purgatori stood in front of the full length mirror in Lady Death’s main bathroom, looking at her body. The last of her scabs had gone - banished by Lexus’s blood - and she looked flawless again. Her bare body gleamed from the wash, the scarlet skin glowing in the mellow light. She looked at her perfect body and saw her skin crisping, tendrils of smoke rising in the light of glowing metal. She closed her eyes to blot out the image, trying to tell herself that she couldn’t really still feel the heat in her muscles and organs, couldn’t feel the blood boiling in her veins, her eyes melting. She shuddered and opened her eyes and saw Lexus in the mirror, standing in the doorway. She was looking Purgatori up and down, gazing appreciatively at her firm buttocks, long legs and sexy wings. What’s she looking at? Purgatori thought sullenly. Looking for scars? Comparing me to how I was in case I’ve lost some of my beauty? In case I’m not good enough for her any more? She turned around and glared at Lexus as she took in the front view w/ a smile.
        "You look gorgeous. As ever," Lexus said.
        "So I meet w/ your approval," Purgatori muttered bitterly.
        Lexus’s expression faltered as she instantly went on edge. "Of course. You always do. I love you."
        "What’s that?"
        Lexus looked down at the bundle of black leather she was holding, desperately wanting Purgatori to say it back to her.   "Clothes. Lady Death said you could have them back. How did she have your clothes?" Please don’t tell me you once went w/ her. Did she? Did they split up badly? Is that why there is so much hate between them?
        Purgatori walked over and lifted up a black leather bra w/ a front-fastening clasp in the shape of a golden skull and crossbones. "They were left in Hell. She obviously thought she had a right to take them w/out asking."
        "What is it?"
        "My wedding dress."
        "Oh," Lexus said in a tiny voice, and didn’t dare push the topic. Purgatori took the bundle from her and stood looking at it. Lexus couldn’t tell what was going on in her head. Was she pining for the person she had been betrothed to? Was that person Lady Death? It all seemed to fit together well : they had a past affair, nearly got married, split up badly - hence, Lady Death is left w/ her dress and there is bad blood between them. Was she pining for Lady Death again? Thinking of abandoning Lexus for her? She waited for a moment. Purgatori seemed to be in a trance. "Purgatori?" Lexus asked softly.
        The vampiress barely glanced up. "What?"
        "Where’s Wolf?"
        Purgatori spasmed w/ a half-gasp/half-snarl. The clothes flumped onto the floor as she clasped her hands to her head, her back arched radically.
        "Lover! What!" Lexus touched Purgatori and her arm was knocked away violently.
        "Get off!"
        Lexus backed up w/ a sob. Purgatori was doubled over, and from the sounds she was making Lexus could easily have believed she was pulling a saw-toothed stake out of her heart. "P-P-Purgatori - "
        "Dead! He’s dead!" Purgatori shrieked. "I killed him! Are you happy now!"
        Lexus stood there shaking, utterly confused and too terrified to do anything or ask for an explanation. She had thought Purgatori was getting better slowly, but she didn’t know this creature at all.
        "Get out. Leave me alone!"
        "P-P-P- "
        "GET OUT!"
        Lexus fled, slamming the door behind her. She pressed her back against the wood and stood there, shaking like a leaf. Leave her be, give her time. She’s bound to be screwed up after that torture.
        - What about Wolf? She killed him. She loved him! Why would she kill him, what did she mean?If she could kill him…could she kill me? Lexus thought of that raging creature and her stomach cooled sickeningly. Yes. Yes she could. W/out any doubt. The shakes intensified. She thought she could hear Purgatori sobbing, but her teeth were chattering so much she couldn’t be sure. She hurried away from the bathroom, trying to keep one horrible wish from surfacing in her mind : If this is what she has become, I wish she had died!

        Isis pushed the bathroom door open cautiously. She had knocked twice w/ no response. Purgatori was sitting on the floor, slouched up against the wall next to the basin. Bright spears surrounded her - she had broken every mirror in the room, almost as if she couldn’t bear to look at herself.
        "Oh my child…" Isis said softly.
        Purgatori turned her head away.
        "Sakkara?" Isis said hesitantly. "What’s wrong? What have I done?"
        "How can you even bear to look at me?" Purgatori said almost inaudibly.
        "Oh Sakkara," Isis sighed w/ vast relief : for a moment she feared Purgatori had veered away from her again. She walked over and squatted beside Purgatori, showing no reaction as chunks of mirror crunched beneath her bare feet. "Because I love you." She reached out and gently stroked her daughter’s hair. "Nothing you could do could change that."
        Purgatori took Isis’s other hand and clasped it tightly. "Wolf’s dead."
        "I know child."
        "I killed him."
        "No child. Pagan did."
        "Can you see him?"
        "Who?"
        "Pagan. Where is he?"
        "I know not Sakkara. He is the least of our concerns at the present." Purgatori didn’t respond. "Listen to me, child."
        "Yes, Goddess?"
        "I detest having to send you back so soon, but time passes too quickly while we are here. I abhor sending you back w/ no powers."
        "I can recover them easily enough."
        "Are you sure?"
        "Yes."
        Isis nodded w/ satisfaction. "Here." She touched the golden cobra that encircled her bicep and it uncurled and slithered into her palm. It reared up, spreading its hood and opening its jaws, and then it froze, nothing more than a metallic sculpture again. Isis pressed her index finger to its needle-like fangs and two drops of blood welled up on her pale skin. "This is to aid you until you recover fully." The dark red hemispheres already had Purgatori’s full attention. She turned her head but Isis moved the hand away slightly. "Heed what I say Sakkara. My blood is potent. It is not poisonous, but in your current weakened state if you take more than these drops it will kill you."
        "I understand." Purgatori’s eyes were locked on the blood, sitting on Isis’s fingertip like drops of liquid ruby.
        "Then take this. Lick, but do not suck any more out of me," Isis said sternly.
        Purgatori took the hand and carefully, almost erotically, put the finger into her mouth and licked the warm salty liquid, trailing the cool finger over her lips as she w/drew the hand. It tasted delicious. There were a myriad flavours, all potent, intoxicating, powerful. She swallowed the minute dose and immediately felt the rush, stronger than anything she had ever felt, stronger than even Lucifer’s blood. All her muscles relaxed in bliss as the gorgeous soothing warmth spread through her. It was as though she had sunk into a deep bath of the most soothing warm water.
        Isis wrapped the cobra around her arm again, watching her daughter sigh in pleasure. Look at her. Poor creature. So passionate. Will she ever get the chance to stop all of this fighting and pain and just live w/ someone who loves her? Love…Such a simple thing, yet so hard to achieve. It can bring so much torment. Look at my daughter. Look at Hope. Look at my sister. All driven by the urge just to be loved. All of them twisted and corrupted by the one thing that should not do that. And yet, not one of them is beyond redemption. Yet…
        "Sakkara?"
        Purgatori opened her eyes reluctantly. "Yes?"
        "You will feel much more powerful, but what I have given you is a mere fraction of your true strength. It is essential you recover your power before facing Drakkan."
        "I will."
        "And as I say, hide your lack of power from Hope."
        "Yes."
        "You will be able to shape-shift, teleport, and operate the Gate. You should be resistant to sunlight for short periods."
        " ‘Should’," Purgatori murmurred.
        "Mmm. Perhaps it would be best to find out - carefully - as soon as possible. It would be unfortunate to find out in the heat of battle that I am wrong."
        "Indeed."
        "Stand."
        Purgatori did so, and Isis embraced her. "I must go soon. I am severely weakened w/ all of this travelling."
        "My Goddess…you have done so much for me…"
        "I would do anything for you," Isis said softly. "But anyway : you, too, are still weak. Rest when you arrive."
        "I will."
        "I mean it. Until you regain your full power you are vulnerable."
        "I said I would!"
        "Yes, but I know you," Isis said, and her smile managed to defuse Purgatori’s irritation.
        "Apparently you do!" she smiled back. "I will, Goddess, I promise. I swore I would fight Drakkan for you and I will not allow myself to fail you again. I learn from my mistakes."
        "Good. Then learn what others have already told you."
        "What?"
        "Use your powers!" Isis said passionately.
        "I do."
        "You do not! You have more at your disposal than you think! Use what you have taken!"
        Purgatori frowned. "I do not understand."
        "You will. When you recover your powers, you will." She squeezed Purgatori. "I must return to Hope to finalise plans. Relax. Come when you are ready." She kissed Purgatori and left.
        Purgatori watched her grow, relishing the feeling of strength growing w/in her, relishing the feeling of love even more.

        They stood in the hallway, gathered into an uneasy ring. Lady Death had changed into the fighting costume she had worn when she had returned to Hell from the battle at Asgard, and it unsettled Vandala - those skull-shaped armoured pads were too similar to Purgatori's for her liking, and w/ Purgatori wearing a costume she had been used to seeing on Hope, it was almost as if the two had swapped personalities. Cremator stood between them, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Purgatori’s unblinking eyes never left him. She stood between Isis and Lexus, dressed in the clothes Lady Death herself had worn for many centuries. They fitted perfectly, as they should do - they had been made for her, after all.
        "Are you fit to go?" Lady Death asked.
        "Yes," Purgatori said. "I can rest further when we arrive there, when we are in the same time stream."
        "Then let us get going," Vandala said. "If - "
        " ‘Us’?" Purgatori said archly, at last shifting her gaze from Cremator. "You are staying here, Valkyrie."
        "I don’t think so!" Vandala snapped.
        "You will, Vandala," Lady Death said. "Isis and I have talked it over. It is better this way."
        "Better how, exactly?"
        "Firstly, we are going on a stealth mission. The more of us there are the more chance we have of being discovered. Between us, Purgatori and I have more than enough power and ability to take care of ourselves. We need to be able to carry out our objectives w/out having to worry about other people. Secondly, I need you here to help Cremator and Brock continue reinforcing WinterHaven, and to recruit an army for us. You have travelled far over this world and are well respected. You are our best hope for gaining forces."
        "Do you expect us to just let you go alone w/ that monster into her world?" Vandala said, desperately trying to think up excuses to counter Lady Death's very sensible points. "She could do anything when you're there!"
        "And you think your presence would stop me," Purgatori smirked.
        "Yes, harlot!"
        "Shut up!" Lady Death snapped. "Both of you! Yes, Vandala, we go alone. And Purgatori knows - from past experience - that I am more than capable of defending myself against her, should she try anything."
        "She will not," Isis said.
        "Hmph," Vandala grunted. "Then I propose that her friend stays here too. As…insurance."
        Lexus had been glowering at Lady Death. That white witch's costume was nothing but a seduction outfit, as far as she was concerned. Look at it : skin tight leather trousers that clung to her long slender legs and firm backside w/out a crease, skimpy crop-top that left her pale flat belly exposed. That hateful silvery hair, shimmering down to her calves. Those breasts, full and firm, squashed almost obscenely into a deep cleavage and barely covered by the studded leather straps. Oh yes, she was one who would have caught Purgatori’s eye, and by the look of it, she was trying to win her back. It didn’t look like Purgatori was falling for it at the moment, but it could only be a matter of time. Vandala’s words broke her out of her train of thought. Staying here. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it wasn’t so much the thought of leaving Purgatori to face danger alone that Lexus objected to, as the thought of leaving Purgatori alone w/ that half-dressed whore. "No!" she snapped.
        "Yes," Purgatori said.
        "What!"
        "We need someone who can open the Gate if we get captured, or to bring reinforcements."
        "But…I want to look after you. You’re still not one hundred percent."
        "I don’t want you beside me," Purgatori said. Lexus gaped. "You might get hurt."
        That sounded more like an excuse than a reason. "I won’t! I’ve always fought w/ you! Even against the Saarga! You always trust me!"
        "Not now."
        Lexus didn’t know if she meant that about fighting beside her or trusting her, but but she was so upset she didn’t think it really mattered : oh yes, now Purgatori had a sniff of her former fiancee, little Lexus would probably be consigned to the background and forgotten. "Fine!" she snapped. "Go w/ that white bimbo then, see if I care!" She turned and ran up the stairs, noticing that Purgatori didn’t make any effort to stop her.
        " ‘Bimbo’?!" Lady Death exploded. "I’ll - "
        "Alright! Be still!" Isis said wearily. "For the love of Horus, this is like a kindergarten at times! Our time is short, we cannot afford to spend it squabbling." Lady Death glared at her and folded her arms defiantly. Purgatori just shrugged and resumed glaring at Cremator. Isis sighed to herself. "Sakkara - go and see Lexus. Be quick. Hope - sort out weapons. Cremator - prepare the horses."
        They all split up gratefully.
        Purgatori went upstairs and went ot the guest bedroom Lexus had been using. She opened the door and went in to find Lexus sitting dejectedly on the end of the bed.
        "Come in, why don’t you?" she said bitterly.
        "What’s your problem?"
        "You," Lexus sniffed. "You act like you don’t even like me."
        "And when was that, precisely?" Purgatori asked tartly. "When I suggested I wanted to keep you from danger?"
        "When have you ever doubted me? It used to give you such a thrill to fight w/ me! To see me kill people!"
        "This is different."
        "Is it? Oh yes, I forgot. You’ve got some nice new big-breasted girlfriend to fight w/ now."
        "Is that what you think of me?" Purgatori hissed. "You stupid whelp! I waited ten years for you!"
        "I am not a whelp!" Lexus yelled. She jumped up and stood before Purgatori, her fists clenched in rage.
        "Don’t you dare take that tone w/ me! I - "
        "I am not stupid! I am not a whelp! I am your lover! I looked after you! I bathed you! I fed you! Do you know how many pints of blood I gave you?" Lexus cried, holding up her knife-scarred forearm for her to see. "Do you even care?"
        Purgatori flinched. "Don’t you - "
        "Probably not! Why should you? What am I to you? A lover? So what? You loved Wolf, but you killed him. Will you kill me - "
        "SHUT UP!!" Purgatori slapped Lexus w/ a blow that nearly knocked her head off her shoulders. Purgatori grabbed her, her grip fearsomely tight. "DON’T YOU EVER MENTION THAT AGAIN!" she shrieked, and threw Lexus backwards. Lexus sprawled flat on the ground, jarring the air out of her lungs, her head missing the sharp corner of a wardrobe by a centimetre. Purgatori stood over her, her face upturned, her veins standing out like ropes on her neck, every muscle as tight as a wound spring. She looked down at Lexus, tears flowing freely. "Lexus…" She took a step closer and stopped w/ a grimace as Lexus recoiled.
        "Stay away from me!"
        Purgatori jumped as though electrocuted. "Lexus - "
        "Get out," Lexus said tearfully.
        "Lex - "
        "I hate you."
        Purgatori staggered back as though the words had been a physical blow. Her legs gave way and she fell to her knees. "nooooo…" Her voice was almost inaudible. She reached out w/ one wavering hand. "Le - Lexus…"
        Lexus could only shrink back. "I don’t trust you. You’ve never treat me like this! I’m scared of you! I never was before - not like this! I don’t know you! I don’t love you!"
        Purgatori fell forward, her forehead on the pale blue carpet, one hand tangled in her hair, the other clawed on the ground. The sound of her agonised mewling broke Lexus’s heart. She could see her body shake as she was racked w/ sobs.
       Oh my goddess! What’s wrong w/ her? Is she schizophrenic? Did I just push her too soon? Oh gods, Lexus, she’s just come out of a coma! What’s wrong w/ you? But -Wolf! No - I don’t know anything about that, what happened or why. Look at her : that’s my Purgatori.
        Lexus got to her knees and tentatively reached a hand out. At that very moment Purgatori straightened up like a jack-in-the-box, her eyes wet and hard. Lexus snatched her hand back.
        "Fine." Her voice was flat, emotionless. Dead.
        Lexus tried to swallow, but her mouth was like sandpaper. She was well aware of what happened to people that Purgatori felt betrayed her.
        Purgatori stood up, wiping her face w/ sharp angry movements. Her eyes burned coldly down at Lexus. "You should have left me in the casket, bitch."
        "P-Purg - "
        "Don’t you ever let me lay eyes on you again." Her tone made Lexus’s blood drop about ten degrees. She glared down at the brunette, then w/ one final hitch she turned and left, slamming the door so hard that a picture fell off the wall. The glass shattered on the floor at the same time that Lexus burst into tears.

        They stood by Purgatori’s Gate, all of them wrapped in thick furs except Isis, who didn’t seem to notice the weather. It was snowing heavily but there was very little wind to bother their flickering torches.
        "How will this work?" Vandala asked grumpily. She was still angry at the way things had gone, at being left behind and at having to let Lady Death go alone into Purgatori’s world. She didn’t care about Lady Death’s boasts about previous outcomes : it was the last outcome that stuck in her mind - Purgatori had proved herself to be a far more deadly adversary that that impetuous monster who had plagued them in the past.
        "I will merge my power w/ Purgatori’s to temporarily redirect the Gate’s focus point," Isis said. This was something Purgatori couldn’t do by herself. She could redirect the Gate to focus on one of the other Gates, but to focus on a new point enitrely was something beyond her current abilities, now that she had lost her powers. Isis knew Lady Death wouldn’t pick up on this point and realise Purgatori was powerless. "It will take you to a point some two day’s travel from the city. You must rest there, Sakkara, and then you both must determine the situation before acting. You will have maybe a week before Drakkan’s Gate to this world is complete."
        "Then let us get started," Lady Death said. She took her fur cape off and handed it to Cremator. "Make haste w/ your work Cremator. You may find yourself under attack in as little as three days."
        "I will milady."
        She turned to Purgatori, who was gazing fixedly at a point on the ground a few metres in front of the Gate. She wondered why Lexus wasn’t here to see her lover off, but decided it was just because she was too emotional. "Ready?"
        "Yes." She shrugged off her fur cloak and walked over to Cremator. Everyone tensed. She held the cloak out, eyes fixed on his, and after a moment’s pause he reached for it, his right hand never leaving Demon Slayer’s handle. Purgatori dropped the cloak in the snow just as his fingers touched it and he bit back an oath. She stood there looking up at him. He stood over a foot taller than her, and his build completely dwarfed her, but he was the one who looked nervous. She turned away w/out speaking, but Cremator felt that she hadn’t needed to - her eyes had said all that needed to be said. She walked over to Isis and bowed her head.
        "Be safe, child," Isis murmured.
        "I will return." Utter conviction. So much more like the Purgatori of old. She squeezed Isis’ hand and walked w/ Lady Death to the Gate.
        They watched the two women step through the Gate and then vanish as the magick did its job and deactivated. There was nothing to do now but wait. Wait to see if they succeeded. Wait to see if Purgatori or Lady Death would kill the other.

--- o O o ---         Lady Death stood by the cave entrance and gazed at the scenery below. They were some thirty miles North East of New Necropolis, halfway up a modest range of small hills on the fringe of the desert. Hope had grown up in Germany, in a forest village called Manduvall. Everything she remembered had been green and lush. Here, everything was stark, harsh and yet possessing some surprising innate beauty. The colours and patterns of the rock formations were entrancing, the shades and textures of the sandy ground intriguing. There was the odd splash of colour - palm trees were dotted here and there and various hardy bushes that had dug down deep and managed to find water. They should have stood out jarringly, but somehow they managed to compliment the raw landscape, enhance it somehow.
        The sun was up, almost directly overhead, burning fiercely down from a cloudless sky the colour of faded denim. Lady Death stepped forward a little and basked a while in the heat - the sudden change they had experienced, from the bitter cold of WinterHaven to the dry killing heat of this world was still bewildering to her. They had arrived in the early evening, when the dark purple sky was beginning to dim to black, and the warmth she had experienced then was nothing compared to the noonday heat. They had made their way to this range of hills and had immediately scouted for shelter, finding this cave in fortunately relatively short time. They had decided to rest at day and travel at night : it was more secretive and of course, Lady Death thought, Purgatori would have to keep out of the sun.
        Vampire. What would that be like, she wondered, letting the sun heat her skin. What would it be like to never feel this warm kiss again? She thought of all those lovely summer days, sitting by the lake in the dappled shade of the oak trees, sitting alone or w/ Niccolo.
        There - now she had gone and spoiled things by bringing him up. W/ a sigh she wandered over to the edge of the hill and looked down on the small market place that rested at the foot of the hill, where three wide roads intersected. It was a wide flat area where tents and stalls were set up, surrounded by a few small blocky adobe houses. When they had arrived the place had been deserted, everyone asleep or absent, but now she was seeing the place in full swing, thronging w/ people and bustling w/ activity, and the transformation was amazing. She gazed down at the market, fighting an urge to go down and investigate. Show herself to these people so they could fall to their knees and offer their allegiance to her. Now wouldn’t that be fine? Getting the people here to worship her, and eroding - taking over - Purgatori’s empire. For a moment the thought was so delicious she actually turned for the path that wound down the hill. No : it could wait. First things first. But, oh my, wouldn’t that p*ss the vampire off?
        Lady Death wandered back into the cave, still smiling at the idea. Purgatori was lying on the ground, sleeping fitfully. Lady Death watched her for a moment, thinking how vulnerable she was, then sat down against the opposite wall. In five hours she would wake Purgatori to change watches and perhaps she would sleep herself - although the thought of being asleep w/ Purgatori prowling around did not exactly put her at ease.
        It was warm, perhaps a bit too warm, in the cave, but it was certainly a lot preferable to being too cold. She leant back and closed her eyes, thinking how amusing it would be to grab Purgatori and drag her kicking and screaming by her hair out into the bright noonday sunlight.

        She knelt in the training hall. It was warm, but comfortable. The mats were laid out, the walls gleaming w/ the fresh paint that Glenn had put on, its smell still haunting the room. The curtains were drawn, and the hall seemed darker than usual. Glenn knelt before her in the stiff white jacket and flared black hakama he wore when teaching her iaido and aikido. He had his back to her; he was facing the shrine. She knelt in the same position, knees slightly apart, toes touching, back straight, palms on thighs. She was at peace, calm. He raised his hands, clapped, and bowed to the shrine. She did the same. He turned, pivotting smoothly and gracefully on his knees, and the whole world seemed to lurch around her. His chest was a gaping ruin, the jacket stiff w/ deep scarlet liquid. His eyes gazed blankly from his grey face.
        "Glenn," she whispered. The dry word echoed as though they were in a cathedral.
        "Bitch."
        That dead voice made her scalp prickle. Once again she seemed to have lost control of her limbs. "Wolf, please…"
        "Look about you, Purgatori. This is my place. I nursed you here. Fed you."
        "Yes, I know…"
        "I saved your life. Trained you. Helped you. Obtained a weapon for you."
        "Glenn…please…"
        "This hall was everything to me. My passion. My life. I gave it up for you."
        "I know…" She looked around her and wasn’t particulary surprised to see that the hall was now a charred wreck, nothing but carbonized timbers and blackened concrete.
        "You killed me."
        "No! Wolf no!"
        He raised his hands and pulled his jacket slightly open. "Look at me."
        She hung her head, her eyes slithery w/ tears. "Wolf…"
        "Remember when we were by the Gate?" he asked relentlesly. "Remember what I said?"
        "I…"
        "I told you to forget about Pagan. To leave your revenge until later. You ignored me and ran off on your petty little quest. Look at me. Do you think this would have happened if you had listened to me?"
        She stared in stunned silence.
        "Your stupid obsession cost me my life, bitch."
        "I didn’t! Glenn, I didn’t kill you! It was Pagan!" she stared at him earnestly, beseeching him to believe her.
        Wolf closed his jacket and resumed his calm pose, regarding her w/ those lifeless eyes. "Everything I was. Everything I loved. I gave it up for you. You betrayed me. You killed me."
        "No!"
        "You traitorous slut." He drew his sword.
        "N-
        -OO!!" Purgatori jackknifed up, scaring the living daylights out of the drowsing Lady Death. She sat shivering in the warm cave, her cheeks damp.
        Lady Death scrabbled for her sword in panic, her heart thumping wildly, before realising what had happened. "Purgatori! You idiot! What the Hell is wrong w/ you?" Lady Death raged. She glared at the vampiress, angry at having been startled, angry at having been caught napping. Purgatori didn’t answer her, or even acknowledge her presence. "Hey bitch! I’m talking to you!"
        Purgatori jerked around, as though only now noticing her. Her eyes blazed at Lady Death. "Shut up, brat."
        Lady Death was about to flare up when she saw the wetness in Purgatori’s eyes. Well, wasn’t this a wondrous thing? Oh-so-cold-and-tough Purgatori crying! Over a dream! She opened her mouth to make some derogatory mocking comment and then thought better of it. The way Purgatori looked at the minute, any smart comment would probably spark off a fight which would only end when one of them was dead. "What’s wrong?" she asked instead, managing a neutral tone.
        "Nothing," Purgatori said sullenly, subsiding. She had, perhaps, realised the same thing. She drew her knees up and sat looking blankly at the floor.
        Lady Death watched her. It was almost fascinating. She doubted anyone had ever seen Purgatori like this; so unfocused, so vulnerable. That could be dangerous to both of them if she hadn’t changed by the time they tangled w/ Drakkan. "It doesn’t look like nothing."
        Purgatori flicked a ‘mind your own business’ glare at her and stayed silent.
        "Please yourself," Lady Death sniffed. She stood up and stretched and headed for the cave entrance. Maybe a breeze on her face would waken her up a bit. Perhaps that shock from Purgatori had been fortuitous after all - she could just imagine the arguments if they had slept through most of a night due to her falling asleep on duty.
        "Hope."
        She turned around, brushing away a spark of irritation at the name. I’m NOT Hope any more, dammit! Why do people keep insisting otherwise? "What?"
        "After we fought…after I left your world…Did you come across any trace of Pagan?"
        "Pagan? That maggot from Hell?"
        "Unless you know another."
        "Smart mouth bitch. No, I didn’t. Not that I was looking." She walked over and sat down again, her attention fully occupied. "He was on my world? When? How? And why?"
        Purgatori was silent for a while. "When we get back to your world, I want him."
        "Answer my questions and I’ll consider it." Purgatori looked up from the floor, her eyes shining w/ hate and anger. How much was directed at her, she couldn’t tell.
        "He used my Gate. He turned my people against me and captured me for Drakkan to play w/."
         "He did much the same thing to me. I have my own scores to settle w/ him, should our paths cross."
        "Then make sure they don’t," Purgatori said icily.
        "Hah! Back to idle threats again?"
        "Not idle, tramp - I have something personal to settle w/ that turd. I will let no-one deprive me of that." Her eyes locked on Lady Death’s, as cold and hard as winter stars. "No one."
        "Really? I’m so intimidated. What did he do?"
        Purgatori just bared her fangs at Lady Death.
        "Ooh. Must have been nasty. What was it? Did he rape you?"
        "Shut up."
        "Or did you rape him, perhaps mistaking him for Lexus?"
        "Shut your mouth!"
        "Did he spit in a goblet of blood maybe?"
        "He killed someone you slut! Someone I loved!" Purgatori was on her feet frighteningly quickly, her talons out. Lady Death jumped up too, her sword at the ready.
        "Touchy bitch, aren’t you?"
        Purgatori’s eyes blazed. "Yes. You would do well to remember that."
        "Pah! You would do well to remember the outcome of our fight on Earth! As I recall I was - what are you smirking at!"
        "Nothing you would find funny." Purgatori pushed her hair back and returned to her floorspace. She lay down on her side and closed her eyes as though nothing had happened, but Lady Death could see her muscles trembling.
       Gods, I hate that bitch! Lady Death sheathed her sword and stood indecisively for a moment. Damn, this is going to be absolute torture. I swear we are not going to make it through this intact. If there wasn’t so much at stake I’d take her head right now, while she doesn’t have that damned blade, and before she gets a chance to use that hateful sorcery of hers…No. Stop that thought. It would be too easy to act on it. Get away from her before she provokes me into doing something stupid. "Don’t get too comfortable," she said tartly as she headed for the cave mouth. "It’s your watch in an hour."
        Purgatori didn’t respond.

        "Wake up."
        Lady Death stirred then came fully awake as Purgatori nudged her w/ her boot. She sat up, rubbing her face and grimacing at the greasy feel. She stood up and stretched, rather surprised that she had fallen asleep so readily : after the incident w/ Purgatori she had expected to stay awake, wary of the vampiress, but apparently the soothing quiet and the heat had gotten the better of her. She exchanged wary looks w/ Purgatori, picked up her sword and walked out of the cave. Night had fallen and the moon was still low on the horizon. In the dim light, Lady Death almost tripped over the body by the cave entrance.
       "What’s this? A patrol?"
        "Dinner."
        Lady Death wrinkled her nose and walked over to the spot she had previously occupied. The market had closed, and the last of the tents and stalls were being packed away. Only a few flickering torches and a trio of charcoal braziers lit the now-desolate area. "So? Which way do we go?"

West
North