"Stupid Warlords!" Joxer grumbled, as he skimmed a stone across the river he was standing by.

Once again, he was odd man out, as Gabby and Xena went off to save the locals from some ravaging tinpot dictator with his own private army. Stay here and look after the supplies, they said. You'll be our back-up if anything goes wrong.

Hah! He knew what they really meant - that he'd just get in the way while they were helping people. It wasn't his fault he wasn't a great fighter, like his father or his elder brother, but he'd always tried his best and wasn't that worth something? He was good at lots of things - well, ok - wagering, lute playing and um, 'nocturnal activities' when he popped by Meg's tavern, weren't the most practical of skills, but there had to be something he was good at.

His fingers rapped against a rock as he racked his brains for something else he could do adequately, butnothing sprang to mind. That's it then, he thought glumly, I'm one of life's losers.

His melancholy was disturbed by the appearance of Celesta hovering beside him, the flame on her candle flickering in the breeze. He gaped momentarily, then scrunched his eyes tight and made his body rigid, waiting for her deadly touch.

"Is it over yet?" he said anxiously, flinching involuntarily.

"No Joxer, I've not come to take you yet," she laughed softly. "I've come to offer you a choice."

"Um, and would this choice not involve dying?" he queried nervously, his eyes warily opened to a slit.

"I'm offering you a choice of career," she answered with a smile. "How would you like some new skills?"

"Yeah, that'd be kinda neat," he said positively, relaxing and opening his eyes to see the Goddess properly. "What sort of job did you have in mind?"

"My apprentice," Celesta said flatly.

"What about Gabby and Xena?" he asked thoughtfully, mulling it over. "Won't they wonder where I've gone?"

"What passes for time here is but eons compared to the rapid passing of time in the world of Death," Celesta replied solemnly.

"Is that a no?" Joxer enquired uncertainly.

"I mean, time that seems like days where I roam, will be but minutes and hours here," she said patiently.

"Neat! Let's go!" he enthused.

"Catch," she called to him, throwing him an object. He caught it, after juggling it a couple of times and it absorbed his body in a flash of energy, leaving him gasping for breath as it vanished as quickly as it arrived. "Good, you can go where I go now."

She wrapped her free hand around his and they rematerialized in a bustling marketplace, the heat almost overbearing. A blazing fire, a mixture of smells not so much diverse as not wanting anything to do with each other, and a hubbub of people offered few clues to his new surroundings as he gazed around. "So where are we?" he asked, after a long pause.

"We're in Athens market for the Barbecue," she said, as it was paralyzingly obvious. "I could murder a Doner kebab."

"In your case, that wouldn't be hard," Joxer said dryly.

"I don't take lives," she said sternly. "It is not for me to judge when Mortals must end their lives. I collect them at the End - thereafter, my Brother decides their fate."

"Yes Celesta," he said humbly. "So why can't anyone see us?"

"They can, but they can't. You're hovering above the ground, in front of a large gathering of Mortals, with Death by your side. What do you think?"

Suddenly aware he was not in actual fact touching the ground and gravity was giving him a miss for once, gave him a nasty turn. His abrupt panic led him to let go of the Goddess' hand and the realisation that this was a bad move hit him about the same time he hit the ground. In a heap. He spat out a mouthful of dirt and grease, his presence on the ground ignored by all and sundry - though the numerous pairs of feet tramping on and into him were not so obliging. "I'll have to watch that step," he muttered as he dusted himself down and noisily scrambled to his feet.

He looked to his front and saw people forming a channel to either side of the Goddess. It didn't seem to be a conscious act on their part to avoid anything, but an instinctive reaction to moving onto an unstated but necessary path. "So it's a sort of mental block for what they don't want to see?"

"Something like that," she conceded. "Death is, after all, the last thing Mortals want to see, so they don't. Grab me a handful of the Colsandus chicken would you? I'm starving!"

He filled a platter with barbecued spicy chicken and seafood, seemingly invisible in sight and sound to the bustling market, the loudest voice extolling the virtues of his 'sausage-inna-bun'. Joxer offered the two platters to the Goddess who took one and sat down on an empty chair that was seemingly occupied but a few minutes before. He tried to follow suit, but the man occupying the stool was planning on staying there and no gestures or curses from Death's new apprentice was able to make him move.

Celesta sucked clean her Kebab sticks and moved towards the object of Joxer's ire, the man moving immediately without any hesitation. She smiled at his frustration and invited him to sit down in the now vacant space, to eat his snack.

"How'd you do that?" he asked testily, as he slumped down on the stool.

"It's a knack - Mortals just automatically clear out of my way. Except the ones who I collect."

"And when do we see you coming?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Generally, just after you die. Mortals who know Death is coming tend to be a bit awkward about it," she commented with a wry smile. The Goddess paused a moment for thought and reconsidered her last statement. "Well, Mages and Shamanesses can see me, even when they're still alive; but when they're due, they're very good about it and don't cause any fuss. There's the odd one or two who try to con Death, but Death comes for all," she added solemnly.

"Well, what's next?" Joxer asked hurriedly, placing his empty platter on the table.

Celesta grabbed his hand again and Athens market vanished to be replaced by a large house that well, just, 'loomed'. Although the house looked quite small compared to the large grounds it had surrounding it, it nevertheless managed to be the centrepiece of everything. While not actually forbidding, definitely boded; The sort of place that didn't actually bode anything in particular but gave the overall impression of boding as a specific policy.

"We're here," Celesta announced, on arrival.

"Where's here?" Joxer wanted to know.

"Home," she qualified, and her flame grew tall and hot as the pair neared the House, as if reassured by the building's presence.

"This is home?" he said in confusion and bewilderment. "What about Olympus?"

"Up there? With my mixed-up family? In some poky hole of a cave on Olympus? Pffttt!" She rolled her eyes in exasperation at even the thought of being anywhere but here - wherever here was. "Besides, how many Mortals do you think die ever year?"

"Ummm, hundreds?" Joxer guessed.

"Millions! There's just no way in Tartarus I could keep an eye on every single Mortal in a cramped Hall in Olympus. Here I can see whose lives are ending, organise accordingly, and still not run out of space for each candle in my house."

"Does that include animals too?" he asked her as the door opened automatically before them.

"Death comes for all," she repeated. "Plants, animals, humans - I collect them all."

"And what happens after that?"

"That's up to my Brother and Sister-in-law - it's always up to them."

Joxer and Celesta hovered soundlessly across the whitewashed linoleum floor, though he was looking uneasily at his feet still not on firm ground. "Umm, Celesta, is it ok to walk on the floor again yet? I'm kinda used to walking, y'know?"

"Of course," she smiled, letting go of his hand. He dropped to the ground, his helmet falling from his head and rolling forward a cubit away. He replaced it with gusto, his armour breaking the deafening silence echoing around the house as he clanged forward noisily.

"Joxer, any chance you could lose the armour?" she asked with a pained expression. "Its not as though you're going to need it, is it? You are temporarily immortal."

"But it's part of me - it's saying "I am Joxer the Mighty!" he protested, puffing his chest out.

"Okay, let me put it another way - LOSE the armour!" she said testily, tapping her foot on mid air and changing her tone of voice from normal to something unearthly and grey - well, like Death. Which, after all, is what she was.

He paled visibly before her, unnerved by the voice change then buckled his armour hurriedly and tucked it underneath his left arm.

"AND THE HELMET TOO. IT LOOKS SILLY. BY THE WAY, THIS IS HOW I TALK NORMALLY OUTSIDE THE MORTAL PLANE - BETTER GET USED TO IT," she added, not unkindly.

"Yes Celesta," he answered dutifully. "What do you want me to do first?"

"I SHALL TAKE YOU TO THE HIVES."

"Why have you got hives for?" Joxer enquired.

"I NEED THE WAX TO MAKE THE CANDLES - MORTALS DON'T MAKE DRIBBLY CANDLES ANYMORE. WE LIKE HONEY TOO."

"We? I thought it was just you and me?"

"MIRANDA AND I LIVE HERE - ALTI IS OUR HOUSEKEEPER. SHE WILL SHOW YOU AROUND."

There was a woman decked head-to-toe in beekeeping protective gear removing honey from the hives, the bees quiet, almost cowed. She turned around at hearing Joxer's approach, and seeing Celesta, she shut the hive up and doffed her headmask.

"Mistress, I've finished collecting the honey," she began, her husky voice coloured with a stilted cackle. "The House is whitewashed, Her indoors is asleep - again - and lunch will be ready in half an hour's time."

"THANK YOU ALTI. I SHALL ENDEAVOUR TO HELP MIRANDA RISE AND SHINE," Celesta sighed.

"I'll rise but I refuse to shine," Joxer muttered under his breath with a half-smile.

"INDEED," the Goddess commented, her eyebrows raised quizzically, hearing his low voice. "I AM SURE MIRANDA WILL MEET YOU LATER. YOU WILL BE GOOD COMPANY FOR EACH OTHER. ALTI, THIS IS MY NEW APPRENTICE - SHOW HIM THE HOUSE PLEASE."

Celesta departed back to the House, leaving Alti and Joxer on their own, the throbbing of the hives at a minimal level. She removed her headgear completely, assessing the man before her.

"So, you're the new boy, huh? Well, you look okay - nothing special though," she said with a shrug. "Just don't upset her Highness and everything should be alright."

"Celesta? Of course not!" he said in surprise.

"The Mistress? Nah, she's ok, as long as you pull your weight and do it right. I mean her daughter - stuck-up Miss Prissy who looks down on anyone who isn't an Olympian," Alti growled, a contemptuous thumb gestured back at the upper floor of the House.

"Whoa, hold it right there!" he said, taking a few deep breaths at this sudden revelation. "You are talking about Celesta, right? Hades' sister; girl with the candle; as final as the goodnight; wears big white shroud?"

"Yeah, that's her. Apparently, this kid appeared on skeleton head's boat when he wasn't looking and Celesta took pity on her and adopted her. And now we're stuck with her," she ended sourly.

"Yoo-hoo Alti, is luncheon ready yet?" a dark-haired woman sang out from the back door. "And can you make my bath ready soon please? I want my soft, beautiful skin to stay as sweet-smelling as ever in case some handsome God drops by. And who's the hired help?"

"I am not hired help," Joxer said huffily. "I'm the new apprentice to Death."

"Yes, of course you are," she said patronisingly. "Now you just finish cleaning the candle room out, sweeping the floor and you can sleep in the gutter tonight."

"Miss Miranda, he is the new Apprentice," Alti chipped in. "Celesta just told me."

"This?" Miranda said dismissively, looking Joxer up and down like he was a dung gatherer about to be crowned King of Corinth. "Oh well, even the scrapes from the bottom of the barrel must have some use. Well boy, you just bring me a nice cup of tea when you're done and I'll tell you what you can do."

"And then I'll tell you what you can do," he snapped back, but he was speaking to empty space; The dark-haired beauty had sashayed away back to the house, fluffing her hair up and smoothing down her dress.

"Ooh, I'm going to miss her around here," he said, glaring at the disappearing figure.

"She's a charmer, ain't she?" Alti said sardonically. "Come over here, I'll show you how to get the wax from the hives. I'll take you to your room after."

She put her headgear back on and removed the top of the hives, glaring hard at the inhabitants who were batting the wings furiously. The bees kept their distance as she removed the wax into three large pots - one for each hive - sealing them with a stopper. A bag of sugar was produced from her cloak pocket and emptied over the stream; She gave the hives a tap and the bees swarmed out to cover the stream, the water disappearing from view as the insects covered it with their white bodies. Alti discarded her protective gear into a box by the back door and shut it again, revealing herself to be wearing a saggy, drab brown smock.

"I thought you needed smoke to keep them calm?"

"Nope, that's only for robbers - if you give something back when you take, they'll trust you next time and you'll get a full pot of honey or wax. I'll show you your room now, then take you to the Mistress."

She led him at a brisk pace through the house, pausing only in the hall by a small carriage clock on a polished mantlepiece and holding a candle up to the light, squinting hard at it. The chimes rang out for the hour and Alti nicked a piece of wax off the candle top with a knife from her belt. "Two o'clock exactly," she announced with satisfaction.

The clock sounded throughout the hallway, the long, drawn out monotonous ticks that had the same effect of scraping fingernails down a slate. He gritted his teeth as he followed Alti up the stairwell, looking daggers at the clock as he passed it. After what seemed like an eternal flight of stairs, they arrived at the first floor and a corridor that seemed to stretch on through all of time. The corridor, save for it's length, was quite unremarkable, with only three doors to be seen amongst the whitewashed walls.

"Doesn't that clock get on your nerves?" he asked her in an agitated tone.

"Nah, you get used to it - besides, it adds character to the place."

"Character? Here?" he echoed. "This is the House of Death - why does it need character for?"

"Because we live here," she replied softly, but with the faintest hint of menace that sent a shiver down his spine. "if you're going to be Apprentice to the Mistress, you need to understand her attitude to Mortals. She's more than just shrouds and candles."

A wooden teddy bear adorned a door they passed, and a room opposite bearing the legend of "My room" below a picture of a small pony. "Miranda's rooms," she replied in answer to a quizzical lift of an eyebrow. "This is yours."

The third of the three doors was kicked open with a flourish to reveal a simple room, with the barest of luxuries - A bed, a chest of drawers, a large rug and a dartboard. On closer examination, the dartboard had a faded picture with a set of darts embedded in it; It appeared to be of a woman, possibly in leathers, though the picture was too far gone to give many details.

"A friend of yours?"

"Ghosts - ghosts of the past," she muttered, removing the picture in question and thrusting it into a pouch on her smock. "Leave your things here, the Mistress wants to talk to you."

He nodded and dropped his armour and helmet on the bed, then followed her downstairs. A candlestick guarded either side of a door and Alti gestured him in alone. He saw a bowed figure over a desk poring over assorted diagrams and coughed to bring his presence to her attention.

"YES?"

"Celesta, you wanted to see me?" he prompted her.

"AH, JOXER. COME WITH ME PLEASE."

She rose from the desk and floated through a door on the other side of the room, Joxer following in her wake. He thrust the door open with a flourish, only to find a stone staircase leading downwards leading to a somewhat faster descent than he'd hoped for, rolling head over heels to the foot of the stairs. He landed with a loud crash and rubbed the affected parts of his body ruefully. "Ow. Ow. Ow!"

"WHAT KEPT YOU?" Celesta commented as she arrived at the bottom behind him. "IN HERE."

She pointed to a large door facing them and vanished inside; he picked himself up gingerly and followed her, opening the door with more caution this time.

"IT'S A LIBRARY."

Indeed it was, but within the stone shelves containing books, there were mysterious scratching and rustling noise. He moved forward to the nearest bookcase and tried to remove a random book. The book was immovable however, and stayed put. Joxer did not stay put and landed on the floor, after losing the tug of war with the obstinate book. The Goddess moved to a bookcase and called out, "JOXER" to it.

A book jumped into her arms and opened at the middle page, words racing across the page, the page turning over when it was full and starting again on the other side of the finished page.

"Gods! Is that my life?" he gasped, looking over her shoulder and reading what he'd just said.

"YES. ALL MORTALS LIVES ARE KEPT HERE."

"Is it a long book?"

"NOW THAT WOULD BE TELLING. FOLLOW ME."

She floated through a stone door at the back and he pushed the door to, revealing a most remarkable library, one of candles. Joxer gazed around the room in amazement; each candle was on a candlestick within a separate chamber of a stone shelf with a nameplate, burning merrily away and the only noise was the drip-----drip------drip of the melting wax as it hit the floor.

"Celesta, why are we here? These are just ordinary candles," he asked in puzzlement.

"THESE ARE CANDLES OF LIFE - AS THE WAX BURNS DOWN, SO DOES YOUR LIFESPAN."

"What happens when the wax runs out?"

"I COLLECT THEM."

She proceded to take a handful of almost expired candles, which were instantly replaced on the shelves by new ones, the slow, gradual melting of the wax beginning again. She placed the candles in a cage and held it within her hand. She regarded the floor thoughtfully, then looked at her apprentice again.

"THIS FLOOR IS COVERED IN MELTED WAX - PLEASE REMOVE IT INTO THE VAT OVER THERE WHILE I'M GONE."

"Yes Celesta," he answered humbly and fetched the spade by the large vat to begin.

"WHY DO YOU THINK I WANT YOU TO DO THIS?"

He thought carefully before answering; It could be because the floor looked better clean and shiny, or because it would mean no-one would slip on the floor - though if Miranda hurt herself... well, accidents will happen! - or to stop melted wax piling up on the floor, but he looked up at her and shrugged. "The vat makes the candles, you want the vat to have more wax," he answered.

She tilted her head to one side, a look of curiosity covering her features. "YES. THAT IS RIGHT. IF YOU SEE ALTI AFTERWARDS, SHE WILL MAKE YOU SOMETHING NICE TO EAT."

She snapped her fingers, vanishing into the mortal plane, and Joxer looked grimly at the endless floor tiles, wax covering them like a flowing stream of lava. He sighed at the long job ahead and began by the bubbling vat of wax, having picked up the spade by the door. Since the task was going to take forever and a day, he may as well start nearest to the vat and not have so far to go to tip the wax away.

He gradually created a circular path around the vat free of wax, the container coughing hot wax everytime he dropped some in from the library of candles, the liquid inside shrinking suddenly whenever a candle expired.

He began to hum an old tune he knew from his childhood to keep his mind off the dullness of the task, then seeing as there was no-one else about, he sang the words too, his cheery voice echoing off the stone walls.
"Busy doing nothing, working the whole day through
Trying to find lots of things not to do
Busy going nowhere, isn't it just a crime
I'd like to be-eeee unhappy, but I simply don't have the time!"

He halted the shovelling temporarily to watch a candle expiring with a last drop of wax and a new candle with nameplate appear in a flash of light.

"Hey, boy!" a voice hailed him. "What are you doing here?"

"Miranda, what a pleasant surprise to see you again," Joxer said with a forced smile. "I'm shovelling."

"Shovelling what?"

"Shovelling that, from there to there," he answered, indicating the wax and the vat.

"Why?"

"Why? Ah, if only we knew why, but ours not to reason why, ours but to clean the sty - Plato," he nodded sagely and picked up his shovel again.

She looked bemused at this statement, then shook her hair back as she faced him. "Anyway, Mother said we ought to get to know each other better."

"So she did - you go and make a nice cup of herb tea and I'll be with you as soon as I've finished here."

"I don't make tea - that's for minions and servants," she said, recoiling at the very idea.

"So what is it you do do?"

"I look beautiful and reflect Mother's glory."

"Oh well, that's alright then," he commented. "I'd hate to think you weren't doing anything unimportant."

"Good," she beamed, the irony going right over her head. "You carry on whatever it is you're doing and we can talk about things."

"What sort of things?" he asked warily, his mind more concentrated on clearing the wax around the nearest bookcase to the vat.

"You know, things!" she said airily "Olympus, who's going out with whom, and what's the latest with you Mortals."

Joxer leaned on his shovel and stared at Miranda thoughtfully, his mournful brown eyes concentrated on her shining green ones. "So you wouldn't say you were a Mortal at all then?"

"Me?? A Mortal? Ridiculous idea!" she snorted in disgust.

"Let me put it another way - You ARE a Mortal - If you weren't, you'd be out of here in a flash and hobnobbing with all the Gods and Godlings - would anyone be here if they didn't want to be?"

"Well, you're here, aren't you? And what about Alti?"

"I'm here because I was going nowhere slowly and wanted to change," he confessed, "Alti... I think Alti has her own agendum."

"But couldn't I have either of those options?"

He looked her up and down, then shook his head firmly. "Nah! You're too hot to remain here by choice and you don't have any hidden agendas, other than to mix with the great and the good. You're as Mortal as I am - more attractive maybe, but still a Mortal."

She stared defiantly at him momentarily, then her head dropped in defeat, snapping up again to show her stiff upper lip. "Alright, so I'm a mortal - I didn't ask to be brought up in Olympus! I mean, like what choice did I have? I have no mortal Family, I have an adopted Olympic family - and that's it! Ask me how many people or Gods have come here!"

He hesitated, wondering where the conversation was going and she prompted him again, her face set impassively. "Go on - ask me!"

"Um, okay - how many people have been recently?" he asked her warily.

"None! Not a single one! Can you imagine how lonely a teenage girl gets when she only has a jack-of-all-trades, a centaur, and the Goddess of Death - not exactly a busy social circle, is it?"

"Uhh.."

"And even when I went with Mother on her trips, relationships with other mortals tended to be on the 'short' side," she added, now in full flow, a torrent of built-up tension flowing forth, like a burst dam. "And do you know who the last visitor we had was? Hades! Terrific! One of an entire family comes to see her! And that was ten years ago - not that time passes here - and you're the most recent visitor, and what a catch you are! Hah!"

She paused for breath and Joxer jumped in rapidly before she let loose another tirade. "Back up there a moment Miranda," Joxer requested, holding a hand up to halt the torrent. "What centaur?"

"Cyril is the centaur that carried me, when Mother took me on her short trips," she explained.

"Cyril?? Not Demonicus or um, er, Pyromax?" Joxer said blinking in surprise at the name and trying to think of a darker name for the steed of Death herself.

She grinned, in spite of herself, at his expression and continued, calmer now. "Yeah, not the kind of name you'd expect is it? But he was my playmate when I was growing up, and it just seemed natural for Cyril to carry me and Mother on our nightly trips, seeing as she needed her hands free and I couldn't hover like she can."

"A sort of "My little centaur" then?"

"Well, you could put it that way, yes." She paused and breathed in deeply "Gods, I've wanted to say that for years! You're the first mortal I've talked to who's actually stayed alive long enough to talk to me!"

"A weight off your shoulders, huh?" he smiled back. "You bet - so what have you been doing until Mother signed you up on a free transfer from Nowhereville?"

"Hah! Just for your information, I've been travelling with a legendary warrioress," he said defiantly. "and I'm pretty good too!"

"Oh really?" she said sceptically, her arms bent over her hips "And what 'heroic' deeds have you done up to now?"

"While I've been with Xena, Ares and Aphrodite's plans have been foiled, Bacchus, Callisto, countless warlords and bandits have died and general decorum has been restored," he said truthfully - at least, to an extent.

"Uh-huh. And there was me thinking it was Xena that did all that."

"Yes, I've heard that rumour too," he said with a knowing smile, and raising his eyebrows quizzically.

"You're saying that it was you that did all that?" Miranda echoed in disbelief.

"You might think that, you might very well think that - I couldn't possibly comment."

"Pffffttt! Yeah, right!!!" she snorted. "Anyway, I've got this new dress to try out - it's lilac with orange ribbons - see you later, um, whatever-your-name-is."

She disappeared through the door with a flourish, leaving him on his own again. "Lilac with orange ribbons?? I'm guessing she doesn't get out much," he commented in a low voice, in case she was still within earshot. "Heigh ho, back to work."

He toiled away at the wax-strewn floor, the tiles slowly revealing themselves beneath, avoiding the ones immeadiately beneath the candles, since they were only going to be covered up again anyway, but clearing a steady path to the vat and back. He took a quick breather, wiping the sweat from his brow, the steady heat of the candles getting to him. He leant on his shovel nonchalantly, landing with a thump on the floor, as he pushed too much weight on the prop.

He jumped to his feet hurriedly, on the offchance he was heard, and began attacking the wax with a relish, the vat bubbling away merrily as each shovelful was deposited. Alti found him slumped over a chest of drawers against a wall, napping quietly.

The housekeeper looked at the candleroom floor and nodded approvingly at his sterling efforts at clearing the floor; she opened her mouth to call him awake, then stopped and grinned to herself.

"Joxer, time to wake up," she called softly. "Rise and shine!"

"Huh? What? Oh morning Gabby," he said drowsily, not fully alert. "I'll rise, but I refuse to shine! You know I just had the weirdest dream, about me being an apprentice to the Goddess of Death and...."

"Look around you kid - you're still here!" she cackled, watching his face fall as he became fully awake within barely a few seconds. "Come on, the Mistress wants to take you out on a trip. She's waiting for you by the kitchen."

"What? She wants to take me out? What for?" Joxer asked in confusion as he followed her back up the stairs to the main house.

"You're the apprentice - I guess she wants to give you on the job training."

"Well, yeah," he admitted, "it just seems a bit soon, that's all."

"Better jump to it - she doesn't like to be kept waiting."

He bustled forward to see the Goddess hovering - literally in her case- by the kitchen door, with Miranda by her side. "YOU'RE READY TO GO JOXER?"

"I guess so - where are we going?" he asked.

"You sure he's up to the job Mother?" Miranda commented doubtfully. "he doesn't look up to much to me."

"QUITE SURE," Celesta answered firmly. "I'VE BROUGHT CYRIL WITH ME FROM MY BROTHER, SO THERE'S NO DANGER OF ME LOSING YOU. IT SHALL BE AN EXPERIENCE."

"Here, catch!" Alti called to him and his hands cupped automatically, a small package landing in his lap, and then falling to the floor, as the heat made him fumble and drop it. Miranda gave him a pitying look as he reached for the parcel on the floor, the contents fortunately not spilled. "Something for you to eat on the way!"

He tucked it under his arm and followed Celesta out of the house to the garden, to see a centaur waiting, his hooves stomping up and down impatiently. "This the Mortal, Celesta?"

"YES. MY NEW APPRENTICE IN FACT."

"Climb up, then boy. I won't bite," he said gruffly, his dark hair blowing in the wind.

"Uhh, would this be a good time to mention I'm not very good with horses?" Joxer said hesitantly.

Celesta and Cyril exchanged glances, then nodded as one, the Goddess picking Joxer up as though he were as light as a feather and placing him firmly on the centaur's back. "SIT. STAY."

She climbed behind him and Cyril started forward, at a brisk canter, leaving the House and the ground behind them, climbing upwards, into the night and to an as yet unnamed destination......

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